“A short time ago—ah! you see, Mr. Folsom, he’s dead!”
“Dead!” cried Folsom; “dead! Mr. Judson dead?”
“Instantly killed, sir.”
Mr. Folsom echoed these words as if he were in a dream.
“What do you mean?” he whispered then; “how did it happen?”
“Nobody knows, sir,” replied the clerk, “except that he pitched headforemost out of his window. He struck the sidewalk; it was just outside there[{8}]——”
The clerk’s explanation was not heard by Mr. Folsom.
“Heavens above!” he gasped, pressing his hand to his brow; “he took me in earnest, and committed suicide.”
“Suicide!”
It was the clerk who repeated the word, but he had not time to say more when Claymore rushed breathlessly up.