before) that there was no number 280 in Rectory Grove.

Pulling up sharply I stood looking about me. Not a living soul was in
sight; not even a policeman. Where the lamps marked the main paths
across the common nothing moved; in the shadows about me nothing
stirred. But something stirred within me--a warning voice which for
long had lain dormant.

What was afoot?

A breeze caressed the leaves overhead, breaking the silence with
mysterious whisperings. Some portentous truth was seeking for
admittance to my brain. I strove to reassure myself, but the sense of
impending evil and of mystery became heavier. At last I could combat
my strange fears no longer. I turned and began to run toward the south
side of the common--toward my rooms--and after Eltham.

I had hoped to head him off, but came upon no sign of him. An all-
night tramcar passed at the moment that I reached the high road, and
as I ran around behind it I saw that my windows were lighted and that
there was a light in the hall.

My key was yet in the lock when my housekeeper opened the door.

"There's a gentleman just come, Doctor," she began--

I thrust past her and raced up the stairs into my study.

Standing by the writing-table was a tall, thin man, his gaunt face
brown as a coffee-berry and his steely gray eyes fixed upon me. My