McLean swung around and glanced up at the house. A long flight of stone steps led up to the front door and a landing marked each break in the terrace whereon grew rosebushes. It was the picturesque garden which gave its name to the fine old mansion--Rose Hill. The mansion had been built in colonial times when the surrounding land, on which stood modern houses and the present-day streets, had been part of the "plantation" owned by General Josiah Baird of Revolutionary fame. The hand of progress had left the mansion perched high above the graded street, but it had not touched its fine air of repose, nor diminished the beauty of its classic Greek architecture. Standing under the fanlight over the doorway was the burly form of a blue-coated policeman. "Yes, that's one of the 'City's finest,'" he laughed. "What of it?" he added, observing his companion's agitation in astonishment. "The policeman is probably taking the census; one called on me last Saturday." Wallace swallowed hard. "That's it," he mumbled, rather than spoke. "You've hit it." McLean, conscious of the bleak wind which accompanied the driving rain, stopped to open the door of his roadster. "Wait in the car, Leigh; I won't be long." Not pausing to see if his suggestion was followed, McLean hurried up the steps. Wallace plucked at the collar of his overcoat and opened it with nervous fingers, mechanically closed the car door, and then with slow reluctant feet followed McLean toward the mansion. He was breathing heavily when he gained the surgeon's side, and the latter's surprised exclamation at sight of him was checked by the policeman who had advanced a few steps to meet the two men. "Dr. McLean?" he asked, and as the surgeon nodded, added, "Step inside, Sir." He touched his hat respectfully. "Is this gentleman with you, Doctor?" "Why, certainly." McLean glanced inquiringly at the policeman; the latter's manner indicated suppressed excitement. "What's to pay, Officer?" "They'll tell you inside," waving his hand toward the open door. "The coroner's there." "Coroner!" McLean's bag nearly slipped from his hand; but before he could question the policeman further, his name was called from the back of the hall and he hurried inside the house. Coroner Penfield stood by the porti�res in front of the library door. "I am glad you could get here so promptly, McLean," he said. "Come in," and he drew the porti�res to one side. McLean entered the library hastily and continued to advance with his usual brisk tread until he caught sight of a huddled figure in the throne-shaped chair. "Good God!" he ejaculated and retreated a few steps. Recovering his usual calm poise he walked around the tea table and examined the body. When he straightened up and turned around, he found Coroner Penfield's attention was centered on Major Leigh Wallace.