The Washington times., 1913-10-15

7 time to get mine, and I may want to
| take some pictures"
one or two of them with particularly
| fine lenses, 1 believe He's an enthu-
siast on photography He has dark
| room all fitted up just adjoining the
thing you wish, 1 am sure"
Mrs. Goodan and her husband, Phillip
Merriman, and Freddie Blaisdell met
| them-at the foot of the stairs and would
! have bombarded them both with excited
queries and conjectures, but Madge
as to Dysart's condition.
Hes just the same only he doesn't
| loss about quite so much Lucille re-
| piled TO her query. His hand Is per-
fectly ice-cold-I tried to hold it, but he
pulled away from me. 1 thought i
ought to give him some more brandy,
| but l could not force 1t between his
| lips. Do go in and see him-I wish that
doctor would comet
Madge went quickly into the library
| and UP to the unconscious form on the
| couch. Dysart was sleeping deeply. but
| uneasily. At intervals his head rolled
| restlessly on the cushions. and his arms
/ twitched convulsiyely. As she bent over
| him and moistened his lips with the
brandy a long sigh that was half a
moan escaped him. His hands were
clammy. and deadly cold-almost as
cold as those other hands lying clenched
and still upon the floor of the room
above. Madge took them in hers and
began to chafe them gently, and this
time he did not draw away.
At last, with tears blurring her eyes,
she left him in his merciful uncon-
sciousness and Joined the others, who
were sitting in little group in the hall
, talking together in low tones.
Her eyes swept them and noted the
absence of the detective.
Where is Mr.. Yorker" she asked
why, / don't know" exclaimed Lu-
cille. surprised. He talked to us for a
few minutes and then he just disap-
peared somewhere. Where do you sup
pose he can be?'
interviewing the servants, probably"
observed Freddie Blaisdell. He's a
queer chap. He potters about in a
fashion which seems to be utterly aim
less to an onlooker-asks the most
irrelevant questions, and then goes of
on a new tack without appearing to
grasp the replies.
And yet everything he does proves
TO be thoroughly consistent when the
end of the case Is reached. He had a
few Of the shrewdest Secret Service
men IN Washington completely ratified
in that affair of the murdered ambas-
sador last year-they didn't know
whether he was crazy or they were, yet
his instinct led him as unerringly as a
birddog's.''
killed Victoria before the police do"
observed Bertram, grimly, land gives
Dysart, and Robin, and me q chance
at him. There won't be much left for
the State to do in the way of justice
when we've finished!'
Hin or her." said Madge quietly.
You forget the disappearance of this
maid
There was a pregnant pause for
short minute. broken by the sound of
hurried steps on the veranda. and Robin
appeared in the doorway preceding a
tall. gray-bearded stranger. with a
large, fiat. black-leather case under his
arm, who removed his cap and ad-
ranced toward them in quiet, profess
sional manner. while Robin presented
him as DR.. Wheeler, of Philadelphia.
Where is the patient?" he asked in a
deep, hearty voice. glancing about him
as he spoke as If TO lose no time.
''The-the body" began Lucille
tremulously. but he Interrupted her.
albeit courteously.
The dead. madam, we can do moth
boundary Of life. but the living-where
is Mr.: Van Rensselaer,? Is he still un-
conscious?"
YES He Is on a couch in the
library" Madge spoke quickly. IF you
will come this way. doctor
When they had disappeared Robin
sank exhausted into the nearest chair
and passed his handkerchief over his
forehead
81 only hope he can do something to
help Dy," he muttered. He doesn't
seem to be much of q doctor! Prosy.
old feliow-did you observe the flowery
way he talked? He must have a bulky
practice, though-his lodge is a little
corker. l say, Phil. did you find
Yorke?
Yes, he's here somewhere. He went
upstairs and made an Investigation and
then he poked off by himself. question