“Shot Frank Jarnow!” exclaimed Henry Windsor as he was pressed against the wall. “Frank’s dead! You’ll be sorry for this. I’ll kill all of you!”
A woman screamed from the doorway. It was the landlady, following the men who had broken down the door.
Some one was running for the police.
Chaos seemed to rule the house, and in the midst of it lay the silent form of Frank Jarnow.
* * *
The morning newspapers carried a sensational story. The very circumstances of the tragedy marked it as the most startling crime news that had broken in Philadelphia during that placid summer.
Henry Windsor, wealthy clubman, had murdered his friend, Frank Jarnow, in an obscure boarding house. The occupants had broken in and had managed to overpower the murderer before he could escape, and he had threatened to kill them, also. They had heard him confess his guilt.
Pictures of Henry Windsor and Frank Jarnow were on the front page, with a photograph of the boarding house and a picture of Mrs. Johnson.
But amid the multitude of words that crowded the columns of the journals, a most important statement did not appear.
There was no mention whatever of the uncompleted sentence which Frank Jarnow was uttering when death interrupted him!