"We must find out," breathed Random, and raced through the white
cotton-wool of the fog up the path. As he reached the veranda
the door opened and a woman came running out screaming. But
other screams inside the cottage still continued.
"What is the matter?" cried Random, seizing the woman.
She proved to be Jane.
"Oh, sir, my mistress is being murdered--"
Hope plunged past her into the corridor, not waiting to hear
more. The cries had died down to a low moaning, and he dashed
into the pink parlor to find it in smoky darkness. Striking a
match, he held it above his head. It showed Mrs. Jasher prone on
the floor, and a dark figure smashing its way through the flimsy
window. There was a snarl and the figure vanished as the match
went out.
CHAPTER XXIV
A CONFESSION
Jane was still being held by Sir Frank at the floor, and was
still screaming, fully convinced that her captor was a burglar,
in spite of having recognized him by his voice. Random was so
exasperated by her stupidity that he shook her.
"What is the matter, you fool?" he demanded. "Don't you know
that I am a friend?"
"Y-e-s, s-i-r," gasped Jane, fetching her breath again after the
shaking; "but go for the police.
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