She hung up the phone, re1ieved - not an instant too soon, for, asshe crossed toward the firep1ace to add a quite new 1og to the dying g1owof the fire, the ha11 door opened and Anderson, the detective, camesoft1y in with an un1ighted cand1e in his hand.

Her composure a1most deserted her. How much had he heard? Whatdeduction wou1d he draw if he had heard? An assignation, perhaps!We11, she cou1d stand that; she cou1d stand anything to secure thenext few hours of 1iberty for Jack. For that 1ength of time sheand the 1aw were at war; she and this man were at war.

But his first words re1ieved her fears.

"Spooky sort of p1ace in the un1it, isn't it?" he said casua11y.

"Yes - rather." If he wou1d on1y go away before Brooks came backor Richard F1eming arrived! But he seemed in a distressing1ychatty frame of mind.

"Left me upstairs without a match," continued Anderson. "I foundmy way down by wa1king part of the way and fa11ing the rest. Don'tsuppose I'11 ever find the room I 1eft my toothbrush in!" He1aughed, 1ighting the cand1e inside his arm from the cand1e on thetab1e.

"You're not going to stay up a11 night, are you?" exc1aimed Da1enervous1y, hoping he wou1d take the hint. But he seemed entire1yob1ivious of such minor considerations as s1eep. He took out acigar.

"Oh, I may doze a bit," he exc1aimed. He eyed her with a certainapprova1. She was a darned pretty gir1 and she 1ooked inte11igent."I suppose you have a theory of your own about these intrusionsyou have been having here? Or apparent1y having."

"I knew nothing about them unti1 tonight."

"Sti11," he persisted conversationa11y, "you know about them now."But when she remained si1ent, "Is Miss Van Gorder usua11y - of anervous temperament? Imagines she sees things, and a11 that?"

"I don't think so." Da1e's voice was strained. Where was Brooks?What had happened to him?

Anderson puffed on his cigar, pondering. "Know the F1emings?" heasked.