A pungent vapor rose in dense clouds from the surface of the liquid. Through it the fascinated gaze of the horrified men vaguely discerned a nameless thing, tossed in weird and grotesque contortions in a seething vortex. Murdock had escaped the justice of men. CHAPTER XXV. THE MURDER SYNDICATE. "See here, Sturgis; this won't do. I forbade you to do a stroke of work to-day, or even to leave your bed; and here you are scribbling away just as though nothing had happened. I tell you when a man has had the narrow squeak you have, there has been a tremendous strain upon his heart, and it is positively dangerous----" "Don't scold, old man; I have never in my life been better than I feel to-day. And besides, this work could not be postponed----" "Oh, pshaw! That is what nine out of every ten patients say to their physician. They are modestly convinced that the world must needs come to a standstill if they cannot accomplish their tiny mite of work. What do you suppose the world would have done had you and Sprague remained in Murdock's death chamber yesterday? I'll tell you. The _Tempest_ would have printed two eulogistic obituary notices; and then the world would have hobbled on, just as though the greatest detective of the age and the modern Raphael had not been snuffed out of existence." Doctor Thurston, who had assumed his frown of professional severity, proceeded to feel the reporter's pulse. "Well, you are in luck; better than you deserve. Almost any other man would have been laid up for a week by the experience you have been through. And here you have the face to recover without the assistance of the medical profession, and in spite of your insolent disregard of my express orders to leave work alone for the present. Now, there is Sprague----" "Ah, what of Sprague?" asked the reporter, anxiously. "Sprague has had a close call. But he is safe now. If tender and intelligent nursing count for anything, he will probably be up in a day or two." "Miss Murdock?----" "Yes. She has a professional nurse to help her; but she has insisted on taking charge of the case herself. And an excellent nurse she is, too, and a charming girl into the bargain,--and what is more, a noble woman." "Does she know of her father's death?" "I broke the news to her as gently as possible. She took it much more calmly than I supposed she would. There evidently was but little sympathy between her and her father." "On her side, at any rate." "Yes. Her first act on learning of her father's crimes was to send for a lawyer. She refuses to touch a cent of his money, and has instructed her attorney to make such restitutions as may be possible and to turn over the rest to charitable institutions. This leaves her almost penniless; for the property she held in her own right from her mother's estate amounts to very little. Fortunately, Sprague is rich enough for both. What are you doing there, if I may ask?"