"H'm," said Fleming Stone, as he fingered the not very alarming-looking affair. In fact, it was merely a long, narrow bag, made of dark cloth and filled with shot. The bag was tied tightly at one end with a bit of twine to prevent the escape of the contents. "Home-made affair," Stone went on. "Made probably by a professional burglar, but an amateur murderer. See, it is merely a bit of heavy cloth, out from an old coat sleeve or trouser leg, sewed up in a bungling manner to make a bag. It is stitched with coarse black thread and the stitches are drawn hard and firm, evidently pulled through by a strong hand. Then, filled with shot, it is tied with a bit of old fish-line, which also is pulled and knotted by muscular fingers. And----" Stone paused abruptly. "And--" prompted Anita, breathlessly, her eyes fixed on the speaker. "Nothing much," and Stone smiled; "only I should say the burglar lived in a house recently remodeled." Hardy nodded in satisfaction. This was the sort of deduction he was looking for. Next he hoped for the color of the man's hair, and the sort of cigar he smoked. But he was doomed to disappointment. "We seem to have drifted from the subject of Miss Carrington," Stone said. "The evening before her death was she in her usual spirits? Evidently no premonition of her fate?" "On the contrary," said Gray, "she remarked during the evening that something would happen to her that night which would surprise and astound us all. She said distinctly that 'to-morrow everything would be different.'" "What did you understand her to mean by that?" "We couldn't understand it at all. It was most mysterious. Nor do we yet know what she meant. For surely she had no thought of dying. She spent the evening playing cards and listening to music, and conversation with the family and guests, quite as usual." "In amiable mood?" asked Stone. "No," replied Pauline, taking up the talk; "on the contrary she was exceedingly irritable and ill-tempered." "You saw her after she went to her room for the night?" and Stone turned his whole attention to Pauline. "Yes; Miss Frayne and I always went to her room with her, to say good-night and to receive possible orders or suggestions for the next day's occupations." "And you say she was unamiable?" "That is a mild word," and Pauline smiled a little. "She was in a high temper, and she told us both that we were to leave this house the next day." "You both left her in that mood?" "Yes, we were obliged to do so. She dismissed us peremptorily and ordered us from the room." "And you saw her next, Miss Stuart, when?" asked Fleming Stone gently. Pauline hesitated for a perceptible instant, then she said, with a slight air of bravado, "next morning." "I have been told the main facts," went on Stone, "but I want to learn certain details. Please tell me, Miss Stuart, exactly how she then appeared." "Oh, I can't!" and Pauline flung her face into her hands with a short, sharp cry.