"I think in so many directions, that I'm sure none of them is right. Awful things suggest themselves to my mind, but I can't believe them, and I dismiss them, half thought out." "That's the way with me," sighed Braye. "It looks now as if there must be some one who gets in from outside the house, and who is responsible for all the inexplicable happenings. Of course, that would point to Stebbins, we must all admit that." The servants had left the hall, so Braye permitted himself this freedom of speech. "I don't say it's Stebbins," the Professor mused, "but I do think it's some one from outside. There may be a village inhabitant who is possessed of a homicidal mania, that's the theory that seems to me the only one possible. And we must assume, now, that there is a secret way to get in and out of the house." "If so, that clever detective ought to find it," argued Braye. "Perhaps he will," said Hardwick, "also, perhaps he has. He doesn't tell all he knows. Now, this is certain. All here present are, I am thankful to say, free from any breath of suspicion. For last night, you, Braye, and the detective and I all slept with our doors open, and none of us could have left our rooms without being observed by the others. The same is true of the ladies, and of course, Mrs. Landon can vouch for her husband." "Don't talk that way," said Norma, with a shudder. "You know none of us could be suspected." "Not by ourselves," agreed the Professor; "nor by each other, of course. But by an outsider, or by the servants, or by the detectives,--it is indeed a good thing to have matters arranged as they are. I feel a decided satisfaction in knowing that no unjust suspicion can attach itself to any one of our party." "That's so," and Braye nodded. "But it doesn't get us any nearer to the real criminal. I incline to the Professor's idea of a man of homicidal mania, in the village. They say, that's a real disease, and that such people are diabolically clever and cunning in carrying out their criminal impulses." "But how could such a man get in?" asked Eve, her eyes wide with wonder. "We don't know," said Braye, "but there must be a secret entrance. Why, Stebbins as good as admitted there was, but he wouldn't tell where it was. However, it's unimportant, how he got in, if he did get in." "Do you mean that some such person acted the ghost,--and--all that?" said Norma, dubiously. "But, if so, how could he kill Mr. Bruce and Vernie? Oh, it's too ridiculous! Those two deaths were not occasioned by any crazy man from East Dryden! It's impossible." "Come out for a little stroll, Norma," said Braye to her, seeing how nervously excited the girl was. "A breath of fresh air will do you good, and we can do nothing here." They went out into the pleasant August sunshine, and strolled toward the lake. "Not that way," begged Norma. "It's too horrible. Oh, Rudolph, who do you suppose tried to drown that poor little Zizi?" "Nobody, Norma. She made up that yarn."