"What time was it that you heard the shots up at Green Fancy?"
ventured Barnes.

"Lord love you," cried O'Dowd, "we didn't hear a sound. Mr. Curtis,
who has insomnia the worst way, poor devil, heard them and sent some
one out to see what all the racket was about. It wasn't till half an
hour or so ago that De Soto and I were routed out of our peaceful
nests and ordered,--virtually ordered, mind you,--to get up and guard
the house. Mr. Curtis was in a pitiful state of nerves over the
killing, and so were the ladies. 'Gad, everybody seemed to know all
about the business except De Soto and me. The man, it seems, made such
a devil of a racket when he came home with the news that the whole
house was up in pajamas and peignoirs. He didn't say anything about a
second Johnnie being shot, however. I'm glad he didn't know about it,
for that matter. He'll be seeing one ghost for the rest of his days
and that's enough, without having another foisted upon him."

"I think I have a slight acquaintance with the chauffeur," said
Barnes. "He gave me the most thrilling motor ride I've ever
experienced. 'Gad, I'll never forget it."

The two men looked at him, plainly perplexed.

"When was all this?" inquired De Soto.

"Early last evening. He took me from the cross-roads to Hart's Tavern
in a minute and a half, I'll bet my soul."

"Last evening?" said O'Dowd, something like skepticism in his tone.