the dead woman.

"Oh!" There was a world of meaning in Darcy's interjection. "You mean
that I--"

"I don't mean nothin'!" broke in Mulligan. "I leave that to the
gum-shoe men. Come on, if you want to call what's-her-name!"

It took some little time, by calling and pounding outside her door, to
arouse deaf Sallie Page, and longer to make her understand that she was
wanted. Then, just as Darcy had expected, she began to cry and moan
when she heard her mistress was dead, and refused to come from her
room. She had served the owner of the jewelry store for more than a
score of years.

"Hark!" exclaimed Mulligan, as he and Darcy came downstairs after
having roused Sallie Page. "What's that?"

"Some one is knocking," remarked his companion.

"Maybe it's the men from headquarters."

It was--Carroll and Thong, who always teamed it when there was a case
of sufficient importance, as this seemed to be. They were insistently
knocking at the side door, having forced their way through the crowd
that was still there--larger than ever, maintaining positions in spite
of the dripping, driving, drizzling rain.

"Killed, eh?" murmured Carroll, as he bent over the body.