Remembering that Doctor Varian had already searched down there for Betty, Landon merely went over the same ground, and returned with the news of his unsuccessful search. “No way out?” queried the doctor, briefly. “None, except by passing the very spot where we all were when Betty ran back to the house.” “Where is she, Landon?” The two men stared at each other, both absolutely at a loss to answer the question. “Well,” and Varian pulled himself together, “this won’t do. It’s a case for the police,—how shall we get at them?” “I don’t know anything about the police, but if you telephone the inn or the clubhouse they’ll tell you. The local doctor is Merritt,—I know him. But he couldn’t do anything. Why call him when you’re here?” “It’s customary, I think. You call Merritt, will you, and then I’ll speak to the innkeeper.” The telephoning was just about completed, when a fearful scream from upstairs announced the fact that Minna Varian had awakened from her opiate sleep and had returned to a realization of her troubles. Slowly Doctor Varian rose and went up the stairs. He entered the bedroom to find Minna sitting up in bed, wild-eyed and struggling to get up, while Janet urged her to lie still. “Lie still!” she screamed, “I will not. Come here, Herbert. Tell me,—where is my child? Why is Betty not here? Is she dead, too? Tell me, I say!” “Yes, Minna,” Varian returned, quietly, “I will tell you all I can. I do not know where Betty is, but we’ve no reason to think she is dead——” “Then why doesn’t she come to me? Why doesn’t Fred come? Oh,—Fred is dead,—isn’t he?” And then the poor woman went into violent hysterics, now shrieking like a maniac and now moaning piteously, like some hurt animal. “The first thing to do,” said Doctor Varian, decidedly, “is to get a nurse for Minna.” “No,” demurred his wife, “not tonight, anyway. I’ll take care of her, and there will be some maid servant who can help me. There was a nice looking waitress among those who went off this afternoon.” “The servants will surely return as soon as they hear the news,” Varian said, and then he gave all his attention to calming his patient. Again he placed her under the influence of a powerful opiate, and by the time she was unconscious, the local doctor had come. Varian went down to find Doctor Merritt examining the body of his brother. The two medical men met courteously, the local doctor assuming an important air, principally because he considered the other his superior. “Terrible thing, Doctor Varian,” Merritt said; “death practically instantaneous.” “Practically,” returned the other. “May have lived a few moments, but unconscious at once. You know the sheriff?” “Yes; Potter. He’ll be along soon. He’s a shrewd one,—but,—my heavens! Who did this thing?” Doctor Merritt’s formality gave way before his irrepressible curiosity. He looked from Doctor Varian to Ted Landon and back again, with an exasperated air of resentment at being told so little.