exclamation, saw the bluish pallor that spread over his face and
neck. As he retreated a step the interior of lower ten lay open to
the day.

The man in it was on his back, the early morning sun striking full
on his upturned face. But the light did not disturb him. A small
stain of red dyed the front of his night clothes and trailed across
the sheet; his half-open eyes were fixed, without seeing, on the
shining wood above.

I grasped the porter's shaking shoulders and stared down to where
the train imparted to the body a grisly suggestion of motion. "Good
Lord," I gasped. "The man's been murdered!"



CHAPTER IV

NUMBERS SEVEN AND NINE


Afterwards, when I tried to recall our discovery of the body in
lower ten, I found that my most vivid impression was not that made
by the revelation of the opened curtain. I had an instantaneous
picture of a slender blue-gowned girl who seemed to sense my words
rather than hear them, of two small hands that clutched desperately
at the seat beside them. The girl in the aisle stood, bent toward
us, perplexity and alarm fighting in her face.

With twitching hands the porter attempted to draw the curtains