"It's evil-looking, isn't it?" She involuntarily shivered. "At first I liked it, but now I can hardly bear to look at it. If I can get it off I intend to return it to Joseph--Mr. Roelocke." Kirowan was about to make some reply, when the door-bell rang. Gordon jumped as if shot, and Evelyn rose quickly. "I'll answer it, Jim--I know who it is." She returned an instant later with two more mutual friends, those inseparable cronies, Doctor Donnelly, whose burly body, jovial manner and booming voice were combined with as keen a brain as any in the profession, and Bill Bain, elderly, lean, wiry, acidly witty. Both were old friends of the Ash family. Doctor Donnelly had ushered Evelyn into the world, and Bain was always Uncle Bill to her. "Howdy, Jim! Howdy, Mr. Kirowan!" roared Donnelly. "Hey, O'Donnel, have you got any firearms with you? Last time you nearly blew my head off showing me an old flintlock pistol that wasn't supposed to be loaded----" "Doctor Donnelly!" We all turned. Evelyn was standing beside a wide table, holding it as if for support. Her face was white. Our badinage ceased instantly. A sudden tension was in the air. "Doctor Donnelly," she repeated, holding her voice steady by an effort, "I sent for you and Uncle Bill--for the same reason for which I know Jim has brought Mr. Kirowan and Michael. There is a matter Jim and I can no longer deal with alone. There is something between us--something black and ghastly and terrible." "What are you talking about, girl?" All the levity was gone from Donnelly's great voice. "My husband----" She choked, then went blindly on: "My husband has accused me of trying to murder him." The silence that fell was broken by Bain's sudden and energetic rise. His eyes blazed and his fists quivered. "You young pup!" he shouted at Gordon. "I'll knock the living daylights----" "Sit down, Bill!" Donnelly's huge hand crushed his smaller companion back into his chair. "No use goin' off half cocked. Go ahead, honey." "We need help. We can not carry this thing alone." A shadow crossed her comely face. "This morning Jim's arm was badly cut. He said I did it. I don't know. I was handing him the razor. Then I must have fainted. At least, everything faded away. When I came to myself he was washing his arm in the lavatory--and--and he accused me of trying to kill him." "Why, the young fool!" barked the belligerent Bain. "Hasn't he sense enough to know that if you did cut him, it was an accident?" "Shut up, won't you?" snorted Donnelly. "Honey, did you say you fainted? That isn't like you." "I've been having fainting spells," she answered. "The first time was when we were in the mountains and Jim fell down a cliff. We were standing on the edge--then everything went black, and when my sight cleared, he was rolling down the slope." She shuddered at the recollection. "Then when I lost control of the car and it crashed into the tree. You remember--Jim called you over."