polished castors stuck up in the air. At first glance,
there seemed to be no human being in the suite save the
frightened boy.

With his mind filled with thoughts of robbery, George was
about to rush out into the corridor and summon assistance,
when a slight sound coming from the north room attracted his
attention. He hastened thither, and was soon bending over
an office couch upon which lay a still figure.

There was no longer doubt in the mind of the boy as to what
had taken place there. Mr. Cameron had been attacked and
the suite ransacked. The boy recalled the fact that the
rooms had been lighted from within when he stood on the
pavement, and wondered if it would not be possible, by
acting promptly, to capture the assassin, as he must still
be in the building, possibly hiding in some of the dark corners.

First, however, it was necessary that the injured man should
receive medical help. Fremont saw a wound on the head,
probably dealt with some blunt instrument, and then moved
toward the telephone in the outer room. As he did so the
corridor door was opened and a boy of perhaps fifteen years
looked in. When the intruder saw that Fremont was observing
him, he advanced to the connecting doorway.

For quite a minute the boys, standing within a yard of each
other, remained silent. Fremont would have spoken, but the
accusing look on the face of the other stopped him. The
intruder glanced keenly about the two rooms which lay under