Another policeman came in at the street door.

"What's up?" he said, looking about in amazement. "You here, Mr.
Fenn? Lowney? What's doing?"

It was Patrolman Ferrall, the officer on the beat.

"Where you been?" asked the coroner. "Don't you know what has
happened?"

"No; ever since midnight I been handling a crowd at a fire a couple
blocks away. This is Miss Van Allen's house."

"Sure it is, and a friend of hers named Somers has been bumped off."

"What? Killed?"

"That's it. What do you know of Miss Van Allen?"

"Nothing, except that she lives here. Quiet young lady. Nothin' to be
said about her. Who's the man?"

"Don't know, except named Somers. R. Somers."

"Never heard of him. Where's Miss Van Allen?"

"Skipped."

"What! That little thoroughbred can't be mixed up in a shootin'!"