"It's upstairs!" Dale took a step toward the alcove stairs. Brooks
halted her.

"Who's in this house besides ourselves?" he queried.

"Only the detective, Aunt Cornelia, Lizzie, and Billy."

"Billy's the Jap?"

"Yes."

Brooks paused an instant. "Does he belong to your aunt?"

"No. He was Courtleigh Fleming's butler."

Knock--knock--knock--knock the dull, methodical rapping on the
ceiling of the living-room began again.

"Courtleigh Fleming's butler, eh?" muttered Brooks. He put down
his candle and stole noiselessly into the alcove. "It may be the
Jap!" he whispered.

Knock--knock--knock--knock! This time the mysterious rapping
seemed to come from the upper hall.

"If it is the Jap, I'll get him!" Brooks's voice was tense with
resolution. He hesitated--made for the hall door--tiptoed out
into the darkness around the main staircase, leaving Dale alone
in the living-room beset by shadowy terrors.