t the location of Professor Kell's place
fixed in his mind, then abruptly departed. Bland gazed after him
musingly.

"The Professor will have some job to put anything over on that bird," he
said grimly. "Personally, I'm sorry for the old soul."

* * * * *

After leaving the Journal office Jimmie proceeded directly to a certain
stable where he kept his private car. It was a long, low speedster with
a powerful engine, and capable of eating up distance. It was the work of
a minute to touch the starter and back out of the yard.

For the next hour he held the wheel grimly while the car roared over the
seventy-odd miles to Keegan. Would he be in time? At last a sign post
told him that he was within five miles of the railroad crossing at
Keegan. Now the headlights were picking out the black outlines of the
freight shed, and the next moment he had swept over the tracks. The
luminous dial on his wrist watch notified him that he had been on the
road but little over an hour, but his spirits somehow refused to revive
with the knowledge.

About a mile beyond the station he drove the car into a dark wood road
and parked it, turning off all lights. The rest of the way to the
Professor's mansion he did on foot. Rather than approach from the front
of the grounds he nimbly climbed a stone wall and, crossing a field or
two, entered the stretch of woods which extended just behind the
mansion. His pocket flashlight here came into use, and once or twice he
gave a reassuring pat to a rear pocket where bulged a heavy Colt
automatic.

* * * * *

What was that? He had approached very close to the rear of the house
now. No lights were visible as yet, but unless he was greatly mistaken
he had heard a muffled scream. He stopped in his tracks and listened
intently. Again it came, this time with a blood-curdling cadence ending
in what he would have sworn was a choking sob.

The little job of getting the old-fashioned rear window open was a mere
nothing to the experienced O'Hara, and in a moment he was inside the
house. His feet struck soft carpet. Catlike, he stepped to one side in
order to prevent any hidden eyes from perceiving his form silhouetted in
the dim light of the open window. He dared not use his flashlight for
fear that the circle of light would betray his position, thus making him
an excellent target for possible bullets. Following the wall closely he
managed to circ