It was bright moonlight when Forrester left the house and walked south on Sheridan Road. He had decided to walk to Lucy’s, believing that he would attract less attention, both on the way and after reaching his destination, than if he used his roadster. Though wayside trees cast great shadows across the road, and the gloom near bordering hedgerows, or the underbrush of vacant tracts, afforded partial concealment, Forrester looked with apprehension upon the brilliancy of the night. Fortunately for his plans, large clouds began shortly to drift over the moon. The gloom was more intense during these moments of darkness because of the transition from periods of strong moonlight. The night was unusually still, undoubtedly because of an approaching storm, and few people seemed to be abroad. Only two motor cars passed him during the journey between his home and Jasper lane. One of these passed at a time when the moon was shining brightly and Forrester was sure that it was Melville’s limousine. At the moment, he was walking in the deep shadow of a high hedge and was probably invisible to the occupants of the car. It was a providential circumstance, for to be stopped and questioned at this time would not only cause delay, but might attract undesirable attention. Reaching Jasper lane, Forrester kept to the grass at the side, and walking slowly, succeeded in approaching the oak tree without any sound that would be audible to others than himself. He paused, listening long and intently. The silence seemed almost palpable, its noiseless fingers clutching at him from the darkness. A momentary flash of the moon gave him his bearings. During the succeeding darkness, Forrester, stooping low, carefully felt his way past the tree and down the path toward Lucy’s cottage. Unless the colored woman had secured another dog, Forrester was sure that he could reach her door unnoticed. It was then his purpose to tie her fast and either frighten her into some helpful admission or else discover for himself some clue possibly overlooked by the police. The cottage stood dark and silent in its little clearing. Forrester reached it without hearing a sound, but he had a momentary feeling of uneasiness when the moon shone full upon him as he crossed the clearing. At the door he paused to consider. Was the woman away? Or had she retired for the night? If the latter, then he would probably be able to surprise her while she slept. Forrester placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly and quietly. Then he exerted a gentle pressure, and was gratified, though astonished, to find that the door opened. Fearful of squeaking hinges Forrester moved the door inward an inch at a time, and entering, closed it in the same careful way. There was no key in the lock, but running his hand along the edge of the door, Forrester discovered a bolt which he softly pushed into place.