CHAPTER III.
ALL A MYSTERY.
"I beg your pardon, but does Mr. Vane live here?"
A man of small stature, smooth face and the keenest eyes Bordine had ever
seen in human head, stood before him. He lifted a broad-brimmed straw hat
and fanned himself as though heated, although the air was quite cool for
the season.
"Do you mean Ransom Vane?"
"Yes, sir."
"He lives here."
"Very good--"
"But, sir," interrupted Bordine, "he is in no mood to receive visitors
now."
"Indeed?"
"A terrible thing has happened."
Then glancing down, the small stranger caught sight of the blood. He did
not shrink, but an interested look at once came to his face.
"A tragedy?" he questioned, quickly.
"Yes. Victoria Vane is dead."
"How?"
"It seems to be either murder or suicide."
"This is bad. When did it happen?"
"Some time to-day."
"No witnesses to the deed?"
"None who have yet appeared."
Just then Ransom Vane appeared on the porch. The moment his gaze rested
on the face of the new-comer he uttered a glad cry and extended his hand.
Pages:
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30