"Catch who, Mrs. Vence?" asked Hall, placing the letter on the rosewood table, since Mrs. Vence did not seem capable of taking it.
"The man who ran out."
"No. He opened the door and pushed past me, and bolted."
"Bolted!" Mrs. Vence screamed. "The villain!"
"Come!" With unnatural strength she dragged the startled postman through the door on the left and into a comfortable study, cleaner in looks than was the hall. On the hearthrug before the fire lay a man in evening dress face upward with a knife in his heart. Hall uttered a cry of horror, and his teeth chattered like castanets. "Murder!" he gasped.
"Murder!" echoed Mrs. Vence, with a shrill scream. "He did it--the man who bolted. Catch him. Catch him!" She pushed the postman fiercely out of the room in a tremendous hurry. "Get a policeman. Catch him. Quick! Quick!"
Hall did not need much urging. With a pale face and dry lips he ran out of the house, down the path, and through the gate, intending to mount his bicycle and race for Jervis, who could not be far away. Then he made a startling discovery. His bicycle was gone. Not a sign of it remained.
"The murderer has gone off on it," said Hall, blankly.
[CHAPTER III.]
Hall was astonished to find that his bicycle had vanished. Taken by surprise he could only stand at the gate and stare helplessly about him. At last, thinking that something must be done, he shouted wildly for Jervis. In his agitation it never occurred to him that the policeman might be at the other end of the esplanade. As it happened, however, Jervis was close at hand, and shortly his voice boomed strangely out of the mists.