“The fire is out,” he announced, in answer to Barclay’s repeated question, and slipping one hand under the recumbent man turned him over. “And Jim Patterson is dead,” he added, pointing to a small hole through which blood was ebbing slowly.
Midnight was long past when Julian Barclay reached his bedroom. He carefully locked the door behind him and drew down the blinds to his windows, then stopped before his mirror, but a glimpse of his face caused him to draw back and glance over his shoulder. Pshaw! the occurrences of the night were getting on his nerves. Other men had looked white and weary; Ethel, even, had fainted away at news of James Patterson’s tragic death, and Walter Ogden had groaned in bitter horror at the havoc wrought by his careless keeping of the cartridges in his den.
Before undressing Barclay took from his trousers’ pocket a small chamois-covered miniature and uncovering it, gazed long and thoughtfully at the painted likeness of Ethel Ogden. Suddenly, with a gesture almost of horror, he laid the portrait on the dressing table, and again inserting his hand in his pocket, drew out a crumpled piece of cardboard and applied a match to it. The match caught, and the cardboard twisted and turned like some living thing writhing in pain, disclosing amidst the flames the lower half of a torn photograph.
CHAPTER XVI
THE INQUEST
At the sound of advancing footsteps Mrs. Ogden dropped her newspaper with a faint scream. Her nervous system had not recovered from the shock of the night before—fire and death had robbed her of her customary air of repose.
“Oh, it’s you, my dear,” she exclaimed in a relieved tone, as Lois McLane took the chair opposite her. “And how did you leave Ethel?”
“Much more composed; she will be down directly.”
“Getting up? Mrs. McLane, how could you permit it?” and Mrs. Ogden sat bolt upright and gazed in disapproval at her guest.
“It wasn’t a case of my permitting—Ethel had made up her mind to dress and come down stairs, and nothing I could say would dissuade her,” responded Lois. She glanced curiously about the drawing room. “Did the water do much damage?”