bass. "Precede us, my dear Miss Thackeray."

The sole topic of conversation for the first half hour was the
mysterious slaying of their fellow lodgers. Mr. Rushcroft complained
bitterly of the outrageous, high-handed action of the coroner and
sheriff in imposing upon him and his company the same restrictions
that had been applied to Barnes. They were not to leave the county
until the authorities gave the word. One would have thought, to hear
the star's indignant lamentations, that he and his party were in a
position to depart when they pleased. It would have been difficult to
imagine that he was not actually rolling in money instead of being
absolutely penniless.

"What were these confounded rascals to me?" he demanded, scowling at
Miss Tilly as if she were solely to blame for his misfortune. "Why
should I be held up in this God-forsaken place because a couple of
scoundrels got their just deserts? Why, I repeat? I'd--"

"I--I'm sure I--I don't know," stammered Miss Tilly, wetting her dry
lips with her tongue in an attempt to be lucid.

"What?" exploded Mr. Rushcroft, somewhat taken aback by the retort
from an unexpected quarter. "Upon my soul, I--I--What?"

"He won't bite, Miss Tilly," said Miss Thackeray soothingly.

"Oh, dear!" said Miss Tilly, putting her hand over her mouth.

Barnes had been immersed in his own thoughts for some time. A slight
frown, as of reflection, darkened his eyes. Suddenly,--perhaps