The sudden darkness was comparative, not absolute, for gradually all
objects of his environment became again visible.

In the dawn of the morning Holt found himself entering the village
at a point opposite to that at which he had left it. He soon
arrived at the house of his brother, who hardly knew him. He was
wild-eyed, haggard, and gray as a rat. Almost incoherently, he
related his night's experience.

"Go to bed, my poor fellow," said his brother, "and--wait. We shall
hear more of this."

An hour later came the predestined telegram. Holt's dwelling in one
of the suburbs of Chicago had been destroyed by fire. Her escape
cut off by the flames, his wife had appeared at an upper window, her
child in her arms. There she had stood, motionless, apparently
dazed. Just as the firemen had arrived with a ladder, the floor had
given way, and she was seen no more.

The moment of this culminating horror was eleven o'clock and twenty-
five minutes, standard time.



AN ARREST



Having murdered his brother-in-law, Orrin Brower of Kentucky was a