awakened the next morning by a woman's scream, followed by cries and
sobs and a confused sound of running to and fro. Almost before he
could collect his thoughts, he heard steps approaching his room,
and, rising, hastily exchanged the smoking-jacket in which he had
slept for a coat. He had barely time to make the change when there
was a loud knock, and some one called his name in quick, sharp tones.

Opening the door, he saw Mr. Whitney standing before him, while in
the background servants were running in different directions,
wringing their bands and moaning and crying hysterically.

"Mr. Scott," said the attorney, in tones trembling with excitement,
"come to the tower-room at once. Mr. Mainwaring has been murdered!"

"Mr. Mainwaring murdered!" he exclaimed, reeling for an instant as
if from a blow. "Great heavens! it cannot be possible!"

"It is terrible, but a fact, nevertheless," replied Mr. Whitney;
"he was murdered last night in his private rooms."

"How and when was it discovered?" Scott inquired, his mind still
dazed by the wild torrent of thought surging through his brain as
he recalled the events of the previous night.

"Hardy, his valet, was the first to discover it this morning. We
have telephoned for his physician and for the coroner; they will be
out on the next train from the city."

Harry Scott shuddered as he entered the familiar room where he had
taken leave of his employer but comparatively few hours before.