instant, with a sort of horrible grin on her face. Then she went
down on the floor, full length, with a crash. Elsa Lee knelt beside
her and slid a pillow under her head.

"Call the maids, Leslie," she said quietly. "Karen has something for
this sort of thing. Tell her to bring it quickly."

I went the length of the cabin and into the chartroom. The maids'
room was here, on the port-side, and thus aft of Mrs. Turner's and
Miss Lee's rooms. It had one door only, and two small barred windows,
one above each of the two bunks.

I turned on the chart-room lights. At the top of the after
companionway the crew had been assembled, and Burns was haranguing
them. I knocked at the maids' door, and, finding it unlocked, opened
it an inch or so.

"Karen!" I called--and, receiving no answer: "Mrs. Sloane!" (the
stewardess).

I opened the door wide and glanced in. Karen Hansen, the maid, was
on the floor, dead. The stewardess, in collapse from terror, was in
her bunk, uninjured.




CHAPTER VII

WE FIND THE AXE