“What is it? What did you find in the closet?” she whispered, peering at the shapeless thing which lay there in the dim, gray light. Without taking time to reply, I hastily removed the pile of miscellaneous clothing from the body. Then my hand touched a cold forehead--a hairy face. “Open the door, quickly!” I ordered. “My God, I’m afraid we have come too late.” She promptly did as she was bidden, while I gathered the cold, still form of Dr. Dorp in my arms. Then I staggered out of the room, across the hall, down the creaking stairway, and out upon the porch, the girl following. As I laid the doctor in the swing where I had deposited the mistress of the house less than an hour before, the lights flashed on once more. “Rouse the servants,” I said. “Telephone for a doctor. Then bring hot water, towels, blankets, hot-water bottles--and some brandy.” While she was gone, I alternately slapped, kneaded and rubbed the cold flesh of my friend. She returned in a few minutes that seemed like hours, with two hot water bottles and an armful of towels. Behind her toddled a stout, round-faced woman in a red kimono, with a steaming kettle of water in one hand and a bottle and glass in the other. We applied the various articles with better will than skill, and a moment later Riggs appeared in bathrobe and slippers carrying four thick woolen blankets. Another ten minutes elapsed before we succeeded in even warming the flesh of our patient. “We haven’t any brandy, so I brought a bottle of Uncle Gordon’s whiskey,” said the girl. “Do you think we had better give him some?” “Not yet,” I replied. “It might strangle him if he has enough life left in him to strangle.” The rumble of a motor sounded in the driveway, and two bright headlights flashed on the porch. A coupe pulled up with shrieking brakes and a young man, carrying a small satchel, got out and dashed up the steps. “This way, Dr. Graves,” called the girl, beckoning him to the swing where my friend lay. “Why, it’s Dr. Dorp!” said the young physician, taking the pulse of my friend. “What happened to him?” “Asphyxiation,” I replied, “and exposure to extreme cold.” Dr. Graves took a stethoscope from his case and used it for a few moments. “The doctor has sustained quite a severe shock,” he said, “but he is doing nicely now. There is nothing I can give him or do for him at this stage which will help matters. Fresh air and warmth are our best allies now.” * * * * * My friend regained consciousness five minutes later. He immediately recognized Dr. Graves, who had attended a number of his lectures before members of the medical fraternity, and had entered into discussions with him. While the two were talking, the housekeeper went in for some hot water, lemon and sugar for a toddy. She had only been absent for a few minutes when we were all alarmed by the sound of barking and snarling within the house, punctuated by piercing screams.