any persons had their eyes upon them, the knowledge
that the entire world had their eyes on them through their
representatives of the press had its influence.

Samuel Goldberg and Lorenzo Tonti, the man who had influenced the
framing of the Tontine insurance agreement, were killed outright
by the falling of the rock. Two of the others suffered minor
injuries. While they were calm the eight survivors were grim. They
looked toward Professor Brierly.

"How did it happen?" he asked quietly.

Mr. Marshall answered.

"Six or seven of us were on the porch, the rest of us were inside,
finishing breakfast. McGuire was just coming up from the lake, he
had been out. The rock, without any warning, came down. Poor Sam.
He always sat where he could see the rock. It had a fascination
for him. He always alluded to the possibility of its coming down."

Charles Rochambeau leaned forward in his chair tensely.

"Well, Professor, you could not save us from this could you?" He
sprang up and threw his hands up with true Gallic violence. "My
God, when will this end?"

There was pain, grief in the deep-set eyes that looked at the
excitable old man. Professor Brierly said slowly:

"It will end right now, Mr. Rochambeau. It has ended." He turned
to the two officers who had come with him, saying:

"A man by the name of Amos Brown, who lives about six miles up the
lake was shot to death this morning."

Bruce Thomas started forward, crying hoarsely:

"No, no. Amos Brown died thirty years ago."

Professor Brierly, ignoring the interruption, pointed at former
Police Commissioner McGuire. "This man, officer, probably is
armed. You will find that the bullet that killed Amos Brown came
from his weapon."

One of the officers took a step toward the ruddy octogenarian.
Jimmy stared, startled. Something was coming off that he did not
understand. Three of the men sprang to their feet glaring at the
principal actors to this strange scene. McGuire stood up, the
blood gradually draining from his face. One of the police officers
asked quietly, holding out his hand:

"Are you armed, sir?" As McGuire's hand slowly went toward his
side pocket, the officer said:

"Give me the weapon, please."

McGuire stared a long time at Professor Brierly, at his comrades,
at the officers. He said:

"Yes, I killed Brown. I killed him in self-defense." He drew out
the weapon, slowly.

Professor Brierly's voice, in the strained silence that had fallen
on th