“I know him, too,” spoke Tom, grimly.

“My husband has been very gloomy of late,” went on Mrs. Damon.  “He foolishly entrusted almost his entire fortune to that man, and last night he told me it was probably all gone.  He said he saw only the barest chance to save it, but that he was going to take that chance.”

“Did he go into details?” asked Tom.

“No, that was all he said.  That was about ten o’clock.  He didn’t want to go to bed.  He just sat about, and he kept saying over and over again:  ‘Bless my tombstone!’ ‘Bless the cemetery!’ and all such stuff as that.  You know how he was,” and she smiled through her tears.

“Yes,” said Tom.  “I know.  Only it wasn’t like him to bless such grewsome things.  He was more jolly.”

“He hasn’t been, of late,” sighed his wife.  “Well, he sat about all the evening, and he kept figuring away, trying, I suppose, to find some way out of his trouble.”

“Why didn’t he come to my father?” cried Tom.  “I told him he could have all the money he needed to tide him over.”

“Well, Mr. Damon was queer that way,” said his wife.  “He wanted to be independent.  I urged him to call you up, but he said he’d fight it out alone.”

“As I said, we sat there, and he kept feeling more and more blue, and blessing his funeral, and the hearse and all such things as that.  He kept looking at the clock, too, and I wondered at that.”

“‘Are you expecting someone?’ I asked him.  He said he wasn’t, exactly, but I made sure he was, and finally, about half-past eleven, he put on his hat and went out.”

“‘Where are you going?’ I asked him.”

“‘Oh, just to get a breath of air.  I can’t sleep,’ he said.  I didn’t think much of that, as he often used to go out and walk about a bit before going to bed.  So he went out, and I began to see about locking up, for I never trust the servants.”

“It must have been about an hour later when I heard voices out in front.  I looked, and I saw Mr. Damon talking to a man.”

“Who was he?” asked Tom, eagerly, on the alert for the slightest clue.

“I thought at the time,” said Mrs. Damon, “that it was one of the neighbors.  I have learned since, however, that it was not.  Anyhow, this man and Mr. Damon stood talking for a little while, and then they went off together.  I didn’t think it strange at the time, supposing he was merely strolling up and down in front with Mr. Blackson, who lives next door, He often had done that before.”

“Well, I saw that the house was locked up, and then I sat down in a chair to wait for Mr. Damon to come back.  I was getting sleepy, for we don’t usually stay up so late.  I suppose I must have dozed off, but I was suddenly awakened by hearing a peculiar noise.  I sat up in alarm, and then I realized that Mr. Damon had not come in.”

“I was frightened then, and I called my maid.  It was nearly one o’clock, and my husband never stays out as late as that.  We went next door, and found that Mr. Blackson had not been out of his house that evening.  So it could not have been he to whom Mr. Damon was speaking.”