the matron and told her what I've just told
you. It was her advice that, as soon as I got off duty, I should come
down here and telephone what I knew to the police. She didn't want me to
do it from the sanitarium because the patients might have heard it and
become too much excited."

"I see. Where's Miss Hardesty now?"

"This is her night on duty at the sanitarium."

"I see. Well, she'll have to testify at the inquest tomorrow. You might
tell her that. Never mind, though. The police will notify her."

"I know she won't like that much," Miss Rutgers declared; "but, of
course, she's tell what she knows. How about me?"

"I can't say yet, but I don't think we'll need you at the inquest. We may
need you later."

"Very well," she consented. "Let me know when the times comes. Good
night, Mr. Bristow."

He went inside and picked up a novel. He wanted to "clear his brain" for
the talk with the chief of police.

Greenleaf came in, looking downcast.

"What did you get from Withers?" Bristow asked.

"Nothing but a good bawling out," the chief said testily. "We won't get
anything more from him for some time. He told me so. He said: 'You
fellows have been carrying things with a high hand today, questioning and
frightening everybody with your hidden threats and third degrees. Get
out! I'll do my talking to Sam Braceway tomorrow.' But I did ask him one
question--the thing you wanted to know. I asked him whether he had worn
rubber shoes last night."

"What did he say?" Bristow was inwardly amused by Greenleaf's
pertinacity.

"He said it was none of my business; and he flew into a rage about
it--worse than he was in here this morning. He looked like a crazy man.
I watched him gesticulate and get red in the face and foam and splutter.
Why, he looked like a man who might commit murder any moment."

At that, Bristow started. The chief's words were strikingly like what
Miss Rutgers had told him she had heard Mrs. Withers say: "He looked as
if he might kill me, choke me to death, anything!"

"He's going to spend the night in Number Five," Greenleaf concluded; "he
and Miss Fulton and the nurse, Miss Kelly."

Bristow tossed his novel into a vacant chair and spread out his hands.

"Well, chief," he said, "what do you make out of all this? What do you
intend to do at the inquest tomorrow? By the way, here's something you'll
need."

He related what Miss Rutgers had told him.

"I'm willing to take your advice," Greenleaf ann