We spoke, and the next instant he appeared on our threshold, revolver in hand, with his face pale and drawn, and his figure less erect, less self-reliant than usual.

[Pg 99]

[Pg 99]

He was bloody from a wound on his head, and his clothes were torn in shreds. He steadied himself with his left hand against the door frame.

"Great goodness, Oakes, what is wrong?" said Dr. Moore, rising to help his friend.

"What the devil!" I exclaimed. "Where have you been?"

"In the cellar," said Oakes.

"What have you been doing?" said Moore, in a most excitable way.

Back came the answer in a feeble tone: "Really, I don't know. Having a little practice, I guess."

"Catch him, Stone," cried Moore.

I jumped forward, and the stalwart figure dropped vertically—collapsing at the knees, then pitched headlong into the room.

I saved the face before it struck the floor.

[Pg 100]

[Pg 100]

CHAPTER IX

Distrust and Suspicion

The day following the murder of Winthrop Mark was one of uneasiness and dejection for the towns-people of Mona. The court scenes of the day before and the great excitement caused by the discovery of the crime had left their stamp. Disquietude was bred and nurtured by the crime itself, and the absence of clues save those of the arm. It was rumored and reiterated that Chief Hallen had failed to discover the slightest evidence as to the perpetrator, and that the bullet even had remained unfound, as was most natural; but people look at things in a narrow light sometimes, and this was an occasion of deep trouble and much 

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