He had caught the murderer, and, if he dies, we may never know the man's identity.

Here, Billie, take this cloth and sprinkle water on his face.

Don't mind me any more; I am all right now." She started to do as I requested but had scarcely dampened the rag when a man came in through the wrecked door, picked his way forward a couple of steps, and stopped, staring about at the scene.

Behind him were other figures blocking the entrance.

Apparently we were indistinguishable from where he stood, for he called out, "Is there any one alive here ?" I heard a weak response or two, and then answered, "A few, yes--back here behind the stairs." He moved to one side, shading his eyes with one hand so as to see better.