Free Mary Roberts Rinehart & Avery Hopwood by The Bat Page A

of the terrace. Miss Cornelia saw him run past the French
windows and disappear into blackness. Meanwhile Dale, her listlessness
vanished before the shock of the strange occurrence, had gone to the
broken window and picked up the stone. It was wrapped in paper; there
seemed to be writing on the paper. She closed the terrace door and
brought the stone to her aunt.
    Miss Cornelia unwrapped the paper and smoothed out the sheet.
    Two lines of coarse, round handwriting sprawled across it:
Take warning! Leave this house at once! It is threatened with
disaster which will involve you if you remain!
    There was no signature.
    "Who do you think wrote it?" asked Dale breathlessly.
    Miss Cornelia straightened up like a ramrod—indomitable.
    "A fool—that's who! If anything was calculated to make me stay here
forever, this sort of thing would do it!"
    She twitched the sheet of paper angrily.
    "But—something may happen, darling!"
    "I hope so! That's the reason I—"
    She stopped. The doorbell was ringing again—thrilling, insistent. Her
niece started at the sound.
    "Oh, don't let anybody in!" she besought Miss Cornelia as Billy came in
from the hall with his usual air of walking on velvet.
    "Key, front door please—bell ring," he explained tersely, taking the
key from the table.
    Miss Cornelia issued instructions.
    "See that the chain is on the door, Billy. Don't open it all the way.
And get the visitor's name before you let him in."
    She lowered her voice.
    "If he says he is Mr. Anderson, let him in and take him to the library."
    Billy nodded and disappeared. Dale turned to her aunt, the color out
of her cheeks.
    "Anderson? Who is Mr.—"
    Miss Cornelia did not answer. She thought for a moment. Then she put
her hand on Dale's shoulder in a gesture of protective affection.
    "Dale, dear—you know how I love having you here—but it might be
better if you went back to the city."
    "Tonight, darling?" Dale managed a wan smile. But Miss Cornelia seemed
serious.
    "There's something behind all this disturbance—something I don't
understand. But I mean to."
    She glanced about to see if the Doctor was returning. She lowered her
voice. She drew Dale closer to her.
    "The man in the library is a detective from police headquarters," she
said.
    She had expected Dale to show surprise—excitement—but the white mask
of horror which the girl turned toward her appalled her. The young
body trembled under her hand for a moment like a leaf in the storm.
    "Not—the police!" breathed Dale in tones of utter consternation. Miss
Cornelia could not understand why the news had stirred her niece so
deeply. But there was no time to puzzle it out, she heard crunching
steps on the terrace, the Doctor was returning.
    "Ssh!" she whispered. "It isn't necessary to tell the Doctor. I think
he's a sort of perambulating bedside gossip—and once it's known the
police are here we'll NEVER catch the criminals!"
    When the Doctor entered from the terrace, brushing drops of rain from
his no longer immaculate evening clothes, Dale was back on her favorite
settee and Miss Cornelia was poring over the mysterious missive that
had been wrapped about the stone.
    "He got away in the shrubbery," said the Doctor disgustedly, taking out
a handkerchief to fleck the spots of mud from his shoes.
    Miss Cornelia gave him the letter of warning. "Read this," she said.
    The Doctor adjusted a pair of pince-nez—read the two crude sentences
over—once—twice. Then he looked shrewdly at Miss Cornelia.
    "Were the others like this?" he queried.
    She nodded. "Practically."
    He hesitated for a moment like a man with an unpleasant social duty to
face.
    "Miss Van Gorder, may I speak frankly?"
    "Generally speaking, I detest frankness," said that lady grimly.
"But—go on!"
    The Doctor tapped the letter. His face was wholly serious.
    "I think you ought to leave this house," he said bluntly.
    "Because of that letter? Humph!" His very seriousness, perversely
enough, made her suddenly wish to treat