The hideous servitor, conscious of but one thing--his master’s peril--was quick to hear and heed. At any moment some one might come in at the open door, and one glance meant detection of the hideous crime his master had wrought. Joslyn looked stupid, but his master knew it was only in looks. His brain was keen and alert, as he had proved many a time before. Just one moment he paused, hesitated; then his dull eyes gleamed beneath the bushy brows, and he was prepared for action. They were just in front of the library door, and, swooping down like an eagle on his prey, he caught up Chester Olyphant’s limp body in his long, wiry arms, and dragged him inside the room. Hermann staggered after him with quaking limbs and a ghastly face; then Joslyn softly shut and locked the door. The two old men, who had grown gray in each other’s confidence and service--grim old men, who had outgrown pity or interest in youth and love and all that was sweetest in the world, now stood face to face, and between them, on the floor, that limp body that, now cold and senseless, had been but a little while ago a picture of manly strength and splendor, with a heart throbbing fast with the passion of youth. “Who saw you do it?” Joslyn demanded, gruffly. “Not a soul!” whimpered the craven wretch. “You see, I did it in a passion before I thought, because he”-- But Joslyn’s coarse, hairy hand, upraised, commanded silence. “Don’t waste time now to tell why ’twas done. The thing is that you did it, and that you must hide it or swing for it,” he said, with rough emphasis that made his master cower again like a beaten hound. The servant knelt down and examined the silent victim. “Dead as a door-nail, an’ gittin’ cold a’ready! You hit him a turrible whack, sir, on his head! Must have fractured his skull, the way it feels.” “I didn’t know I had such strength. I hit harder than I meant. I--I”--began Hermann, weakly, but the man shut him off. “No use cryin’ over spilt milk. What’s done is done, an’ now we got to hide the corp, an’ let it go as one of the myster’ous disappearances we read about every week in the newspapers!” “Joslyn, how clever you are! Oh, if we can only manage it! But I cannot think clearly. My brain’s on fire ever since Jessie came with her terrible story, and tempted me to kill him because of the hearts he had broken--hers and Leola’s, too, so that she wanted vengeance on him for their wrongs. So I seized that iron wedge and went to watch for him, and the minute he spoke to me I struck, and he fell. He’s dead, and he deserved it. I am not sorry, only I don’t want to be found out,” Hermann mumbled on, unheeded by the other, who stood with his brows wrinkled in profound thought. He chuckled, suddenly, and Hermann muttered: “You have a thought, clever Joslyn; you will save me!” “Perhaps so, sir, if I can work out my plan.” “Yes, yes?” “You know what’s under this floor, sir?”