Chick Carter, hastening to follow Nick’s instructions, found nothing in the side hall nor out-of-doors that shed any light on the mystery.
Several guests were departing in a limousine from under the porte-cochère, but Chick knew two of them personally and that none was worthy of the slightest suspicion.
Returning through the hall, he found Patsy Garvan and quickly told him what had occurred, while both hastened out of the rear door of the house. As they were descending the steps, one of the kitchen servants, who was on her way in, approached them and said somewhat excitedly, addressing Chick:
“Sure, sir, there’s something wrong around here. Would you mind telling Mr. Langham, sir?”
“Something wrong?” questioned Chick, sharply regarding her. “Where? What do you mean?”
“Round here, sir,” she replied, leading the way. “I was after taking out some refuse for the barrels, sir, and I heard moaninglike, as if some one was hurted.”
“Heard it where?”
“Here, sir, under the cellar door. I was after—there ’tis again, sir!”
The corpulent Irishwoman shrank back affrighted.
A hollow, half-choked moan had issued from under a slanting bulkhead door abutting the foundation wall on that side of the house.