"Suicide!" cried the girl, at once wide-awake and interested "What
suicide?"

"A man was found dead in the side street right by our building with a
revolver in his hand."

"What sort of a looking man was he?"

"I didn't see him," said the maid, almost regretfully. "He was taken
away before I was up. Cook tells me it was the milkman found him and
notified the police."

"Who was he?"

"Nobody round here knows a thing about him. He shot himself through the
heart and us sleeping here an' not knowing anything at all about it."

"But didn't any one know who he was?"

"Never a soul. The superintendents from all the buildings round took a
look at the body, but none of them knew him. It wasn't anybody that
lived around here. There's a piece in the afternoon papers about it."

"Get me a paper at once," directed the girl.

Eagerly she read the paragraph the maid pointed out. It really told very
little. The body of a plainly dressed man had been found on the
sidewalk. There was a revolver in his hand with one cartridge
discharged, and the bullet had penetrated his heart. He had been a short
stalky man and had worn a brown soft hat. There was nothing about his