or nine years he has lived by himself in the same old family house where he had lived with his parents, in a lonely spot near Pelham.  And he has lived in a most frugal, even miserly, manner.  His income could not have been less than six thousand dollars a year, and his expenditures could not have been more than six hundred.  His dementia, ironically enough from the day that he came into his fortune, took the form of a most pitiable and abject fear that he would die in poverty, misery, and want; and so, year after year, cashing his checks as fast as he got them, never trusting the bank with a penny, he kept hiding away somewhere in his house every cent he could scrape and save from his income—­which to-day must amount, at a minimum calculation, to fifty thousand dollars.”

“And,” observed Jimmie Dale quietly.  “Connie Myers robbed him of it, and—­”

“No!” Her voice was quivering with passion, as she caught up his words.  “Twice in the last month Connie Myers tried to rob him, but the money was too securely hidden.  Twice he broke into Doyle’s house when the old man was out, but on both occasions was unsuccessful in his search, and was interrupted and forced to make his escape on account of Doyle’s return.  To-night, an hour ago, in an empty room on the second floor of that tenement, in the room facing the landing, old Luther Doyle was murdered!”

There was silence for an instant.  Her hand had closed in a tight pressure on his arm.  The darkness seemed to add a sort of ghastly significance to her words.

“In God’s name, how do you know all this?” he demanded wildly.  “How do you know all these things?

“Does that matter now?” she answered tensely.  “You will know that when you know the rest.  Oh, don’t you understand, Jimmie, there is not a moment to lose now?  It was easy to lure a half-witted creature like that anywhere; it was Connie Myers who lured him to the tenement and murdered him there—­but from that point, Jimmie, I am not sure of our ground.  I do not know whether Connie Myers is alone in this or not; but I do know that he is going to Doyle’s house again to-night to make another search for the money.  There is no question but that old Doyle was murdered to give Connie Myers and his accomplices, if there are any, a chance to tear the house inside out to find the money, to give them the whole night to work in without interruption if necessary—­but Doyle dead in his own house could have interfered no more with them than Doyle dead in that tenement!  Why was he lured to the tenement by Connie Myers when he could much more easily have been put out of the way in his own house?  Jimmie, there is something behind this, something more that you must find out.  There may be others in this besides Connie Myers, I do not know; but there is something here that I am afraid of.  Jimmie, you must get that man, you must get the others if there are others, and you must stop them from getting the money in that house to-night!