Without rising from his crouching position, he pushed forward a chair until its broad proportions completely sheltered his movements should Judith turn around and glance in his direction; then, losing no further time, he twirled the dial of the safe around with practiced fingers, and as the massive door finally swung open he went systematically through each compartment of the safe. Fully twenty minutes passed and the man moistened his dry lips. Was his search to go unrewarded?
As he felt about in the last compartment to be examined his fingers encountered a piece of paper caught apparently in a crevice. With infinite care he pulled it loose, and rising, walked over to the electric-light bracket on the wall by the door through which he had entered the library. One of the bulbs was burning, and as he bent his head to examine the piece of paper, his eyes caught the flash of steel as it darted through the portières, and he instinctively recoiled—but too late to avoid the thrust. With a whimpering cry he fell face downward, his blood staining the handsome rugs.
Judith stirred and sat up, then after a comfortable stretch of her stiffened muscles, she replaced her book on the table, and with a glance at the mantel clock, paused to warm her hands at the smoldering embers.
It was much later than she had supposed—one o’clock. With a faint shiver she pulled her dainty warm wrapper more closely about her slender figure before leaning over to switch off the reading lamp. Picking up her large sewing bag she walked across the library intending to press the wall button which controlled the electric side lights. But her intention was forgotten as her sleepy eyes caught sight of the crumpled figure lying in front of the entrance to the dining room.
A cry broke from her and slowly her shocked wits took in the significance of the ever widening red stain creeping across the rugs and floor. For long seconds she stood staring, too terrified to move. Gradually gathering courage, she advanced and, placing one trembling hand on the man’s shoulder, rolled him over until his face was exposed to view. With a bound she regained her feet, her hands raised to her throbbing temples, while the sewing bag tumbled unheeded to the floor.
She was unaware of the passing time as she gazed at the face before her, a face scarcely less gray in death than her own, from which every ray of color had been stricken. Slowly, slowly she took in every detail of the man’s appearance, then with numb, clumsy fingers she jerked a long pair of steel shears from her sewing bag and, kneeling down once more by the dead man, she hacked and tore at his watch chain until she had loosened a small locket.
Slipping the locket inside her belt and clutching the sewing bag, she staggered to her feet and made her way into the large central hall as a key turned in the front door and a man stepped inside the house.
“Joe! Thank God!” Judith’s low cry ended abruptly, and her husband was just in time to catch her as she fell unconscious to the floor.
CHAPTER II
IDENTIFIED
Detective Ferguson laid an impatient finger on the bell of the front door of the Hale residence and, removing his hat, fanned himself vigorously. Coroner Penfield’s message had been imperative and, the Headquarters’ car having been out on an errand, he had commandeered a “bike” which a patrolman had left in the outer hallway, and had pedaled uptown as rapidly as possible. The unwonted exertion, as well as his intense curiosity, had both served to excite him. What untoward circumstances had required his immediate presence at three in the morning at the home of Robert Hale, eminent scientist and respected citizen of the National Capital?