"You had better go to bed," he said, "and we will talk things over in
the morning. You are not fit for anything more tonight."

"No, I'm not," I admitted frankly; "but before I go to bed I should
like to feel a little more certain where I'm going to wake up."

There was a faint sound outside and I saw him raise his head. It was
the distant but unmistakable hum of a motor, drawing nearer and nearer
every moment. For a few seconds we both stood there listening: then
with a sudden shock I realized that the car had reached the house and
was turning in at the drive.

Weak as I was I sprang from my chair, scarcely feeling the thrill of
pain that ran through me at the effort.

"By God!" I cried fiercely, "you've sold me!"

He whipped out the revolver, pointing it full at my face.

"Sit down, you fool," he said. "It's not the police."




CHAPTER IV

ECHOES OF A FAMOUS CASE