Then he opened the door of his room, and went in.
To his surprise he saw on the threshold, just inside the door, a little note. He picked it up and opened it.
It was from his sister Ann. It ran as follows:
"Dearest Bob.—I have seen the Cuthberts, and they can join us on the plain to-morrow for a picnic. As you have gone early to bed, I thought I'd let you know in case you choose to get up at cockcrow, and perhaps leave us for the day. Don't forget that we start at two o'clock, and that Margaret will be there. Your loving sister, Ann."
Awdrey found himself reading the note with interest. The excited beating of his heart cooled down. He sank into a chair, took off his cap, wiped the perspiration from his brow.
"I wouldn't miss Margaret for the world," he said to himself.
A look of pleasure filled his dark gray eyes. A moment or two later he was in bed, and sound asleep. He awoke at his usual hour in the morning. He rose and dressed calmly. He had forgotten all about the murder—the doom of his house had fallen upon him.
CHAPTER IV.
"I wish you would tell me about him, Mr. Awdrey," said Margaret Douglas.