from his continued gloom I felt sure the situation
between them was unchanged.

Part of the afternoon I believe he read--Gertrude and I were out, as I
have said, and at dinner we both noticed that something had occurred to
distract him. He was disagreeable, which is unlike him, nervous,
looking at his watch every few minutes, and he ate almost nothing. He
asked twice during the meal on what train Mr. Jamieson and the other
detective were coming, and had long periods of abstraction during which
he dug his fork into my damask cloth and did not hear when he was
spoken to. He refused dessert, and left the table early, excusing
himself on the ground that he wanted to see Alex.

Alex, however, was not to be found. It was after eight when Halsey
ordered the car, and started down the hill at a pace that, even for
him, was unusually reckless. Shortly after, Alex reported that he was
ready to go over the house, preparatory to closing it for the night.
Sam Bohannon came at a quarter before nine, and began his patrol of the
grounds, and with the arrival of the two detectives to look forward to,
I was not especially apprehensive.

At half-past nine I heard the sound of a horse driven furiously up the
drive. It came to a stop in front of the house, and immediately after
there were hurried steps on the veranda. Our nerves were not what they
should have been, and Gertrude, always apprehensive lately, was at the
door almost instantly. A moment later Louise had burst into the room
and stood there bareheaded and breathing hard!

"Where is Halsey?" she demanded. Above her plain black gown her eyes
looked big and somber, and the rapid drive had brought no color to her
face. I got up and drew forward a chair.

"He has not come back," I said quietly. "Sit down, child; you are not
strong enough for this kind of thing."

I don't think she even heard me.

"He has not come back?" she asked, looking from me to Gertrude. "Do you
know where he went? Where can I find him?"

"For Heaven's sake, Louise," Gertrude burst out, "tell us what is
wrong. Halsey is not here. He has gone to the station for Mr.
Jamieson. What has happened?"

"To the station, Gertrude? You are sure?"

"Yes," I said. "Listen. There is the whistle of the train now."

She relaxed a little at our matter-of-fact tone, and allowed herself to
sink into a chair.

"Perhaps I was wrong," she said heavily. "He--will be here in a few
moments if--everything i