“How?” Strange shot out.
“I don’t know,” replied Peret. “As I was passing the house ten minutes ago, Max Berjet, the man on your left, hurled himself through the window, cried out that he had been attacked by ten assassins, and died immediately afterward. After summoning a physician, I started to enter the house to investigate, and heard the doctor scream. When I turned I saw Dr. Sprague and this man”—pointing to the pedestrian—“struggling in the grasp of something I could not see. Before I could reach them, the two men fell to the pavement. Dr. Sprague died almost instantly; this other man, as you see, is recovering. He has just informed me that he was attacked by an invisible monster.”
Strange’s bellicose features twisted into a grin.
“An invisible monster, eh? Well, it had better stay invisible if it’s still sticking around.” He whirled about, and to the patrolman: “I want all available men here on the jump, Bill. Call the coroner at the same time. O’Shane”—to one of the plainclothes men who accompanied him—“watch the front of that house and keep an eye on these bodies until the coroner comes. Mike, take care of the back of the house, and,” he added with a grim humor, “keep your eye peeled for an ‘invisible monster’.”
Strange turned once more to the Frenchman.
“You’re sure these two men are dead, Peret?”
“They will never be any deader,” replied Peret shortly.
“All right—Who is that man?”—pointing over his shoulder at the druggist.
“I am the proprietor of the drug store across the street,” spoke up the druggist. “I ran over with Dr. Sprague, who happened to be in the store when this gentleman summoned assistance.”
Strange nodded.