ted by the arm hung loosely from one of the
curtain rings. It was as though some violent hand had torn at the curtain
in passing, almost dragging it from the pole and precipitating the figure
down the stairs. Immediately beyond the landing, in the corridor, was a
door on the right, flung wide open.

The inspector entered the room with the open door. It was a large room
forming part of the front of the house--a lofty large room, partly
lighted by the half-drawn blind of one of the windows. One side was lined
with bookshelves. In the corner of the room farthest from the door, was a
roll-top desk, which was open. In the centre of the room was a table, and
a huddled up figure was lying beside it, in a dark pool of blood which
had oozed into the carpet.

The inspector stepped quickly back to the landing.

"Flack!" he called, and unconsciously his voice dropped to a sharp
whisper in the presence of death. "Flack, come here."

When Flack reached the door of the library he saw his chief kneeling
beside the prostrate body of a dead man. The body lay clear of the table,
near the foot of an arm-chair. Instinctively Flack walked on tiptoe to
his chief.

"Is he dead, sir?" he asked.

"Cold and stiff," replied the inspector, in a hushed voice. "He's been
dead for hours."

Flack noted that the body was fully dressed, and he saw a dark stain
above the breast where the blood had welled forth and soaked the dead
man's clothes and formed a pool on the carpet beside him.

Inspector Seldon opened the dead man's clothes. Over his heart he found
the wound from which the blood had flowed.

"There it is, Flack," he said, touching the wound lightly with his
finger. "It doesn't take a big wound to kill a man."

As he spoke the sharp ring of a telephone bell from downstairs
reached them.

"That's Inspector Chippenfield," said Inspector Seldon, rising to his
feet. "Stay here, Flack, till I go and speak to him."

CHAPTER II

"Six-thirty edition: High Court Judge murdered!"

It was not quite 5 p.m., but the enterprising section of the London
evening newspapers had their 6.30 editions on sale in the streets. To
such a pitch had the policy of giving the public what it wants been
elevated that the halfpenny newspapers were able to give the people of
London the news each afternoon a full ninety minutes before the
edition was supposed to have left the press. The time of the edition
was boldly printed in the top right-hand corner