"Vic hasn't begun to prepare supper it seems," muttered Bordine. "Wonder
if I had best go up that way and call. Of course Ransom has returned. I
believe I will and inquire who the gentleman was who called just as I was
entering the woods."
And so Bordine turned his steps in the direction of the Vane cottage. The
front door was closed, and a dead silence reigned over the place as he
came up.
"Wonder if the folks are gone."
Bordine rapped.
No answer was vouchsafed.
He rapped again.
Silence profound as the grave.
"Well, there seems nobody at home. Vic sometimes occupies the back porch
with the cat and her book; I will see."
He walks swiftly around the house.
He came to a sudden stand as he gained the broad side porch of the
cottage.
He stood staring, struck dumb with an awful, deadly fear. Then he moved
forward a step.
His eye fell on the interior of the porch, and he started and stopped.
What was it that held his steps?
[Illustration: HIS EYE FELL ON THE INTERIOR OF THE PORCH, AND HE STARTED
AND STOPPED.]
An object on the ground--Victoria Vane, lying at full length, with open,
staring eyes, her masses of yellow hair stained a horrible crimson.
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