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 hall, where he stamped noisily about for a few moments. He opened and shut the outer door several times.

“Now follow me,” he directed, still in a whisper. “We’ll all go back to the drawing-room and wait.”

He led the way; Mrs. Drew, Mary Will, Parker and I followed. As we entered, Barnes turned down the lights.

Thus I came back to the room I had not seen since I left it to answer Henry Drew’s pitiful cry. The fire had burned low, but the dying logs still sent forth a warm red glow. Again they were staring down on me, those stern Drews on the wall. I was acutely conscious of the handcuffs on my wrists.

We waited. From where I sat I could see that the yellow fog from the tule-fields no longer pressed against the window panes. By straining my eyes I fancied I could make out the dim outlines of an apartment house across the street. Was the tule-fog lifting? Rh