warm bed will be welcome as a kiss to a love-sick lad.”
"But how about the medicine you wanted?" I objected. "Hadn't we better see about getting that first?"
"Non," he returned. "It will keep. The medicine I seek could not be administered before tonight—if that soon—and we can secure it later as well as now."
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"The figure of the cowled knight was no longer a thing of flesh."
Rather surprized at our unheralded return, but used to the vagaries of a bachelor physician and his eccentric friend, Nora McGinnis, my housekeeper and general factotum, prepared a toothsome breakfast for us next morning, and we had completed the meal, lingering over coffee and cigarettes a little longer than usual, when de Grandin's face suddenly went livid as he thrust the folded newspaper he had been reading into my hand.
"Look, mon ami," he whispered raspingly. "Read what is there. Mordieu, they wait not long to be about their deviltry!"
"STATE COP DEAD IN MYSTERY KILLING"
announced the headline to which he had directed my attention. Below was a brief dispatch, evidently a bit
