With that, the light flared up bright, and the dead faces were revealed. Burke whirled around.
Hayden was sinking to the floor, a bullet hole in his head, from which the blood was slowly starting to emerge. Burke sank beside the man and lifted his head.
Slowly the heavy form relaxed. Hayden opened his eyes to stare with bewilderment at the detective.
In another moment he was dead.
Burke placed the body on the floor and went to the bed. Once again he endeavored to find a trace of pulse in the still forms. Both were lifeless. He fancied that both dead faces bore a peaceful look, and on the elder woman’s slightly-opened lips there seemed to hover an exultant smile.
Closing the room, Burke got his coat and belongings, then locked up the house. Some hours later he was sitting with the Chief of Police, relating the tragedy. The Chief drove with Burke to the Sheriff of the county, and together they went to the house. The Sheriff had called up the coroner, and they found him waiting for them.
A brief examination of the women revealed that both had died of heart failure, probably induced by some unexplainable shock. Burke took the Sheriff aside. On the detective’s suggestion, they wrecked the attic room in a thorough search. Burke wanted to locate the source of the dropping blood.
At the conclusion of their quest the mystery was finished, for Burke. But it was to Rhyne that he confessed his failure.
Returning to his apartment in New York, he found Rhyne there.
“Well,” cried the latter, as soon as he appeared, “did you solve the mystery?”