I went at once across the hall to Halsey’s room
and knocked; then I pushed the door open. It
was empty; the bed had not been occupied!
“He must be in Mr. Bailey’s room,”
I said excitedly, and followed by Liddy, we went there.
Like Halsey’s, it had not been occupied!
Gertrude was on her feet now, but she leaned against
the door for support.
“They have been killed!” she gasped.
Then she caught me by the arm and dragged me toward
the stairs. “They may only be hurt, and
we must find them,” she said, her eyes dilated
with excitement.
I don’t remember how we got down the stairs:
I do remember expecting every moment to be killed.
The cook was at the telephone up-stairs, calling
the Greenwood Club, and Liddy was behind me, afraid
to come and not daring to stay behind. We found
the living-room and the drawing-room undisturbed.
Somehow I felt that whatever we found would be in
the card-room or on the staircase, and nothing but
the fear that Halsey was in danger drove me on; with
every step my knees seemed to give way under me.
Gertrude was ahead and in the card-room she stopped,
holding her candle high. Then she pointed silently
to the doorway into the hall beyond. Huddled
there on the floor, face down, with his arms extended,
was a man.
Gertrude ran forward with a gasping sob. “Jack,”
she cried, “oh, Jack!”
Liddy had run, screaming, and the two of us were there
alone. It was Gertrude who turned him over,
finally, until we could see his white face, and then
she drew a deep breath and dropped limply to her knees.
It was the body of a man, a gentleman, in a dinner
coat and white waistcoat, stained now with blood—the
body of a man I had never seen before.
Where is Halsey?
Gertrude gazed at the face in a kind of g fascination.
Then she put out her hands blindly, and I thought
she was going to faint.
“He has killed him!” she muttered almost
inarticulately; and at that, because my nerves were
going, I gave her a good shake.
“What do you mean?” I said frantically.
There was a depth of grief and conviction in her
tone that was worse than anything she could have said.
The shake braced her, anyhow, and she seemed to pull
herself together. But not another word would
she say: she stood gazing down at that gruesome
figure on the floor, while Liddy, ashamed of her flight
and afraid to come back alone, drove before her three
terrified women-servants into the drawing-room, which
was as near as any of them would venture.
Once in the drawing-room, Gertrude collapsed and went
from one fainting spell into another. I had
all I could do to keep Liddy from drowning her with
cold water, and the maids huddled in a corner, as
much use as so many sheep. In a short time, although
it seemed hours, a car came rushing up, and Anne Watson,
who had waited to dress, opened the door. Three
men from the Greenwood Club, in all kinds of costumes,
hurried in. I recognized a Mr. Jarvis, but the
others were strangers.
