of killing you as they did of killing your friend. My servant was
placed to watch your window, saw your signal, reported to me. And
I found your assistant and threw him into an area, with a knife in
him!"

Ford felt the story was untrue. Prothero was trying to frighten
him. Out of pure bravado no sane man would boast of murder.
But--and at the thought Ford felt a touch of real fear--was the man
sane? It was a most unpleasant contingency. Between a fight with an
angry man and an insane man the difference was appreciable. From
this new view-point Ford regarded his adversary with increased
wariness; he watched him as he would a mad dog. He regretted
extremely he had not brought his revolver.

With his automatic pistol still covering Ford, Prothero spoke to
Pearsall.

"I found him," he recited, as though testing the story he would
tell later, "prowling through my house at night. Mistaking him for
a burglar, I killed him. The kitchen window will be found open,
with the lock broken, showing how he gained an entrance. "Why not?"
he demanded.

"Because," protested Pearsall, in terror, "the man outside will
tell----"

Ford shouted in genuine relief.

Exactly !" he cried. "The man outside, who is not down an area with
a knife in him, but who at this moment is bringing the police -he