As we burst into the room, the man's voice died away in his throat; he whirled around and glared at us. His face was working convulsively, and the mouth was partly open, showing the long narrow teeth. The eyes glared at us in an unearthly manner, and his left hand opened and closed. He gave us one startled look—a look which contained nothing of recognition—and half gathered himself for a spring. And then suddenly there came a change in the expression of his face. The eyes which had swept over Bartley and myself shifted their gaze to something which was behind us. As we looked, the wild expression which had glared at us began to fade away; instead there came a half-bewildered look, the faint dawning of remembrance. Slowly I saw a look of astonishment give place to the greatest horror. He gave one step in our direction and pointed a wavering hand at the object behind us. I gave a quick look to see what it might be. But only Patton stood behind us in the doorway. Advancing very slowly, one foot in front of the other, with the outstretched hands wavering, yet ever pointing, the man took two steps in our direction. He tried to speak, and I saw the lips move in a vain effort. Then as his face worked strangely, there burst forth the words in a half shriek: “You—you. You were killed.” Bartley's voice broke in upon the silence, cool and sharp: “No! You killed the wrong man.” The uncouth figure half stumbled, and there came a despairing moan from the trembling lips. The hand dropped limply to his side. He gave one wild, appealing look around the room, then his eyes came back to Patton. I saw the veins in his forehead swell, and his face flush a vivid red. He half started to gather himself for a leap in our direction—started, only to partly turn. There came a half groan from his lips—a despairing cry, and then suddenly he fell with a crash to the floor. Fell, to move his hands convulsively for a moment, and then become very still. Carter's next-door neighbor—the minister—lay dead at our feet. Chapter XVII The Case Is Ended Several hours later found us gathered in Carter's living room. It had been a very active two hours. Our first attention had been given to the secretary, for it needed but a glance to tell that the minister was beyond any aid of ours. We carried her to Carter's house, where his housekeeper placed her in bed, while we called the doctor. We had reached both the coroner and the chief of police, and when their duties had been completed, they had all gathered in Carter's house.