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Rh either the house or the street. Two blocks away was a small park.

At nine thirty o'clock several men approached this park singly, each acting as if he was going about his business or hurrying to his home. They followed the walks, and now and then they passed and whispered a few words to one another.

More men happened to walk through the alley in the rear of the Branniton house. Some of these men had bundles beneath their arms. There was a door in the alley wall, and before it was a caterer's wagon. Men were carrying refreshments into the house.

At one of the corners of the residence, in the rear, there was a small veranda that was shrouded in darkness. While the caterer's men were carrying in the provisions, several of the other men, who had been in the alley, slipped through the door and sought the dark veranda. Crouched there, they waited.

Here and there a shadow flitted across the lawn from dark spot to dark spot—but the shadows were men. A big limousine stopped on a side street half a block away, the shades drawn at all its windows. A truck stalled on the other side street, apparently, and four men in it worked at the engine. Finally one left, saying he would telephone for help.

Across the avenue from the Branniton residence a crowd had gathered to watch the guests arrive, muttering when two police officers urged them to move on. In the crowd were several men who gave one another knowing looks now and then.

The last guests arrived. The hour of ten struck. Inside the Branniton house the orchestra was play-