Dickson gave him a sharp look, but asked no more questions.
Accompanied by two of his companions, a special detective and a deputy from the office of the Chief Medical Examiner, he went upstairs at once, while two plain clothes men took charge of the halls and stairway.
“Get busy, Doctor Babcock,” Dickson said, and the examiner proceeded to his duty.
Detective Hutchins joined in the examination, and in only a few minutes they announced that the victim had been killed by the bronze book-end, thrown by some one else.
“Here’s the other book-end on this table,” Hutchins said; “presumably, the assailant stood here and threw the thing. It may be, however, that he lifted it from the table and moved nearer to his victim and merely hit her with it”
“No; it was thrown,” Doctor Babcock declared. “The nature of this abrasion on the temple proves that. It wasn’t such a very hard blow—as it must have been, if effected nearer by. Indeed, if it hadn’t struck just where it did, it would have made a bad bruise, but needn’t necessarily have been fatal.”
“But it was fatal,” pursued the detective, “and it was the work of another. Therefore, it is homicide, and we must proceed accordingly. Where’s the man of the house?”
Nobody answered, and the police all showed their surprise.
“Has he vamoosed?” asked Hutchins quickly. “Hunt for him, Briggs. You know him, don’t you?”
Briggs, the officer first called in, said that he did, and he went on his search.
“Now until he’s found, somebody must be at the head of
