"At the head of the stairs." "Gee, but I'm one lucky bird!" chuckled Wiggly, as he hurried up the steps. "Now what's going to happen? Get pitched out on my ear, most likely." Reaching the top of the stairway, there was no need for him to seek further directions. The door of the tragedy chamber was not fully closed, and there came to his ears the voice of Constable Griggs, badgeringly insistent, as he sought in vain to batter down Victor Sarbella's brief statement. The guest of Greenacres remained calm. "I have told you all that I can about the case--the murder, as you insist," he was saying. "I have nothing more to say." Wiggly edged closer to the crack of the door, peering within, and saw the face of the dead woman across which Griggs had not replaced the sheet. As he stared, his ears began to wiggle violently. Without any more hesitation he walked into the room. Ham Griggs looked up with a hostile and questioning frown. "Who're you?" he barked. "Where'd you come from?" "Price, Price of _The Star_," Wiggly murmured mechanically, as he continued staring at Helen Gilmore. Doctor Bushnell took an angry step forward. "Mr. Gilmore issued specific instructions that no newspaper men were to be admitted," he said. "I don't know how you managed to get in, but I know how you're going to get out." "Wait a minute!" muttered the reporter. "I've seen her somewhere. I never forget faces, and she----Wait a minute, I tell you, and I'll place her. Let a fellow think, can't you!" He moved a little closer, staring at the beautiful features. Victor Sarbella had strained forward in his chair, and there was something so tense in his attitude that Doctor Bushnell signaled to the constable that the intruding newspaper man was not to be interfered with for a moment. The constable did not notice that; he seemed little short of hypnotized by Price's animated ears. "She must have figured in some story that I worked on," went on Jimmy Price, hardly conscious that he was thinking aloud. "And it must have been some time ago, or I wouldn't have so much trouble remembering." The doctor made a suggestion that bore more fruit than he could have expected. "Take a look at this gentleman," he said, pointing to the artist; "you don't happen to remember him, I suppose?" Jimmy Price shook his head slowly and positively. "I am quite sure," he answered, "that I have never seen Mr.--Mr.----" "Mr. Sarbella," supplied the doctor. The effect of that name on Jimmy Price was startling. It seemed that his ears would surely work themselves loose from the side of his head. "Sarbella?" he exclaimed, turning swiftly and looking again at the dead woman. "Sarbella? Yes, I know her now; she was the girl--the girl in the Sarbella case!"