He ran part way to the garage before remembering that the chauffeur was with the car and waiting several miles away to bring Mrs. Forrester and Josephine home. Green must be gotten out of the way before they arrived. Returning to the pergola Forrester placed Green’s inert form over his shoulder and carried the detective to his room over the garage. Laying the man carefully on the bed Forrester hurried to the house to telephone. "Yes," said the doctor, a half-hour later, "I think he will live. We got him just in time. Peculiar thing, Mr. Forrester, how a man can be asphyxiated in the open air—yet this fellow shows every symptom of asphyxia." "Please don’t mention the matter at the house, doctor," requested Forrester. "My mother and sister might be unnecessarily alarmed over it." "I understand," agreed the doctor. "Mum’s the word." Then, turning to William, who had returned and stood in the room, he added, "Are you going to watch him?" "My wife and I will take turns," replied William. "Well, if there is a change that does not look favorable, telephone me at once. I’ll be back in the morning. Good-night." ———— During the period of Green’s convalescence Forrester emerged from his lethargy, passing to the other extreme. He became restless and uneasy. The doctor advised him against discussing any serious matters with Green, stating that the man had received a mental as well as a physical shock and that complete recovery could come only through both mental and bodily rest. Forrester remained away from Green, therefore, and finding himself unable to concentrate upon his reading or to focus his thoughts for any length of time, he spent many hours walking along North Shore roads, or discovering new bypaths through the woods. On one of these occasions he found himself unexpectedly in the rear of Lucy’s cottage. As he retained lingering suspicions of the Jamaica colored woman it seemed to Forrester an opportune time to pay her another visit. He walked around the end of the building through the neglected, weed-grown clearing to the door and knocked. No noisy dog greeted him this time, and in the quiet and gloomy woods the place seemed to exhale an atmosphere of insidious mystery. He knocked twice before Lucy opened the door and stood as he remembered her before—silent, distrustfully observant, her peculiar eyes with their oddly drooping lids vaguely suggestive of furtive evil. "Good afternoon," Forrester greeted her, cheerfully. "You here again?" and a scowl added to the forbidding aspect of her face. "Yes; after more news," replied Forrester. She smiled sneeringly, and Forrester suspected that she was now well aware that he was not connected with a newspaper. "Well, what sort of news do you want this time?" she snapped. An inspiration came to Forrester. Perhaps if aroused and angered she might let something slip. "Your opinion of the detectives and police," he answered.