CHAPTER XII.
A BURNING TRAP.
For some moments Dyke Darrel stared at the face in the window without moving. How came Harper Elliston in the woods at Black Hollow, when he ought to have been in Chicago, according to his expressed intentions of the previous day?
With a sudden, wild scream the crazed Sibyl darted across the floor, and thrust her hands against the window with such violence as to burst the glass, cutting her hands severely in the operation.
"Hubert! Hubert! come at last!" The girl staggered back and sank in a paroxysm to the floor.
It was indeed a startling affair, yet Dyke Darrel did not lose his presence of mind. He hurried to the door and opened it, springing outside quickly.
"Elliston, I want you."
Dyke Darrel stood by the broken window now, but the man he had expected to find was not there. The apparition had vanished as though fleeing into the upper air.
Again the detective called the name of his friend, but without receiving a reply.
Here was a mystery indeed.