LITMIR.BIZ

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want the money that came to him in such an awful way, leastwise, not if it throws suspicion on him. He’s going to be cleared, or he’s not going to use the money for himself. Miss Carnforth told me all that, I’ve talked a lot with her.”

      “You’ve talked with all of them, haven’t you?”

      “Yes, indeed. I’ve babbled on, and most often they tell me a lot that they don’t realize. Mrs. Landon, now, she’s struggling hard not to suspect her own husband, but Miss Carnforth has said a few things that scare Mrs. Landon ’most to death. Oh, Penny, it’s a fearful case! We must fix it up, we must!”

      “We will, Zizi. There’s so much evidence not to be denied, that we must ferret out what it really means. I’m getting a glimmer, but your help is invaluable. That was a stroke of genius for you not to tell of your ghost! Weren’t you frightened?”

      “Not a bit. All I wanted to do, was to find out who it was. But I didn’t dare grab at it, for I knew it would get away. I hope it will come again. I’ll try to make it speak, and maybe I’ll get a line on the voice.”

      “Was it a man or a woman?”

      “I couldn’t tell. The draperies were long and full, and the skull-mask covered the face.”

      “Didn’t you see the hand?”

      “It was lost in the draped shawl. But I’m sure I’ll have another visit, and then I’ll get more information. You think I did well, oh, Wise Guy?”

      “I do indeed!” and the approving smile that was Zizi’s most welcome reward lighted up the detective’s face.

      Zizi pursued her plan of talking to the various people separately. She gleaned much this way and with her powers of lightning calculation, she put two and two together with astounding results.

      She even lured the old Professor into a tête-à-tête conversation.

      “No, I don’t believe those deaths were supernatural, now,” he said, thoughtfully; “I did, but it’s too incredible. However, it’s no more unbelievable than that they could have been accomplished by human power.”

      “They were,” and Zizi’s black head nodded affirmation.

      “How, then?”

      “By a diabolically clever genius. Tell me again, Professor, just how those people were sitting? Were they together?”

      “Mr. Bruce and Vernie? No. There was the width of the room between them.”

      “Were you near either?”

      “Yes, sitting next to Mr. Bruce. We were talking absorbedly.”

      “Had he tasted his tea?”

      “I think he had taken one sip,—not more, I’m sure.”

      “There was poison in that tea, Professor.”

      “There must have been, but how could there be?”

      “Who gave it to him?”

      “Let me see; Miss Carnforth presided, as Mrs. Landon was not at home. Miss Carnforth made the tea, and poured the cups, and Vernie and Mr. Tracy,—yes, and Mr. Landon were passing the things around. It was all most informal, we never have the servants in at tea-time. I couldn’t really say just who did give Mr. Bruce his cup. Vernie gave me mine, I think.”

      “Well, the poison was put in Mr. Bruce’s cup, after Miss Carnforth fixed it for him.”

      “Bless my soul, do you think so? That lets Braye out, then, for he wasn’t there.”

      “You don’t suspect Mr. Braye, do you?”

      “No; of course not; but I don’t really suspect anybody. But Mr. Braye is the heir, you know, and so may be said to have motive.”

      “That is true of Mr. Landon,—in a way.”

      “I can’t suspect either of those two,—it’s impossible.”

      “Go on, Professor, tell me about the little girl’s death.”

      “You’ve heard it before.”

      “I know, but every little helps.”

      “She was across the room. I was looking at Bruce, of course, when I heard an exclamation——”

      “From whom?”

      “I don’t know; Miss Carnforth, I think. Any way, she and Tracy were bending over Vernie,—they had laid her on a couch,—and in a moment, they said she was dead. At the same time, Mr. Bruce breathed his last. It was all so fearful, so terrible, we were stunned. At least, I was, and one by one we pulled ourselves together, trying to realize what had happened.”

      “All right, I know the rest. You’ve helped me a little——”

      “Do you suspect anybody? Does Mr. Wise? Tell me, child. I can doubtless be of help, if I know what to do.”

      “No, Professor, you can’t help. It’s very awful, but it will soon be clear to all. Heaven help that poor Miss Carnforth.”

      “Nonsense! Eve didn’t do it! Of that I’m certain.”

      “So am I. Of course, Miss Carnforth didn’t do it. The tea was all right when she fixed Mr. Bruce’s cup.”

      “Then who tampered with it? Not Vernie!”

      But Zizi had run away. She had a way of making sudden exits and entrances, and one never knew where she was or when she would appear.

      That night Zizi declared that she hoped the ghost would visit her. She said this openly, as the whole crowd were preparing to go to their rooms for the night.

      “Perhaps it will,” said Wise, looking at her, thoughtfully. “If it called on Mr. Tracy last night, it may be here again to-night, and you may be favoured. Are you not afraid?”

      “Not of the ghost,” said Zizi, “but I am afraid that some of you people may play a trick just to scare me. Will you double up, so I can feel sure there’s nothing of that sort?”

      “I’ll take Mr. Tracy’s room,” said Mr. Wise, “then I can keep my eye on Mr. Braye and Professor Hardwick. Though I’ve no mental image of either of them trailing round in sheets!”

      “I should say not!” and Braye shuddered. “No, Miss Zizi, you’ve nothing to fear from us.”

      “Nor us,” Norma assured her. “I was going to sleep in the room with Miss Carnforth, anyway, and that will preclude either of us impersonating a phantom.”

      “What an awful idea,” and Eve glowered at Zizi. “You don’t really think any of us would stoop to such a despicable thing, do you?”

      “You never can tell,” said Zizi, nonchalantly. “Mrs. Landon, you won’t let your husband leave your room, will you?”

      “No,” said Milly, not at all resenting the question which Zizi put to her in a gentle, pleading tone, very different from that she had used to the others.

      And so, the inmates of the house being accounted for, and the doors and windows looked after with extra care and precaution, the household settled itself to quietness, and the dark hours passed, ticked off and struck by the great deep-toned clock in the hall.

      It was between two and three, when Zizi, watching, perceived her door slowly and silently swing open.

      Determined to learn all possible as to who the intruder could be, the girl lay motionless, but breathing deeply as if asleep.

      Her eyes, almost closed, yet took in every movement of her silent visitor.

      It was no white-robed ghost, but a tall figure, clad in a long black cloak, and wearing a black mask.

      With

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