"Certainly," she replied, rising, "in Father's study if ygu wish." They entered the study, which was directly off the living room, and closed the door. They must have been gone about a half hour, but it seemed like two hours to me as, fidgeting inwardly, I listened to Mrs. Harms' family history, her account of the death of her beloved husband, and minute descrip- tions of six operations she had undergone, each time, to use iher own expression, "standing at the entrance of death's door." She assured me, also, that she knew what it was to have death ^^ the. home. The Grim Reaper had visited her family a score of times, she averred, and only three weeks before, one of her roomers had been found dead in bed. She prattled on with scarce a pause until the door of the study opened. I was glad when she went upstairs with JMiss Townsend and left Dr. Dorp and me together. "Come into the study," he said. "I have learned some interesting things, and it is possible that more awaits us in here," Professor Townsend's study was neither large hor pretentious. It was obviously the retreat of a profound student as attested by the book-lined walls, many of the volumes of which were worn with much handling. The furniture consisted of a large, roll-top desk, a smaller typewriter desk on which stood a hooded machine, a filing cabinet, two ofhce chairs and three comfortable overstuffed chairs, one beside the window, the other two placed conveniently under wall lights for reading. A thick pile of typewritten manuscripts lay on the roll-top desk. The doctor divided them, handing me half and settling himself comfortably in one of the overstufEed chairs with the other half. "Miss Townsend kindly brought these out of the files for me," explained the doctor, "1 think it possible that they may shed some light on the' mys- terious cause of the death of their author, "We can eave time dividing the work." "I believe I can conduct a more Intelligent search if you will give me some idea of what I am to look for," I said. "Quite so," he agreed. "I had forgotten for the moment that you were not familiar with the details of my interview with Miss Townsend. Let me re- view it briefly, "She fmished school nearly a year ago, and since that time has been acting as her father's secretary, typing his manuscripts and attending to much of his voluminous correspondence. "He had been working day and night in his effort to pi-Qve his theory that a living oi^ganism can be created from inorganic matter. During their months of close association she found him extremely irritable until one morning about three weeks ago. It appeared that his very nature had changed over night and she assumed that he had made some im- portant discovery. She remembers the exact date owing to the fact that Mrs. Harms' roomer was found dead in bed on the night of the supposed dis- covery. This }-':^o:ner, who was living under an alias, was found to be a notorious character known as Immune Benny, and is alleged to have committed numerous crimes, among which were several re- volting murders, without ever having been con- victed, "After that night the professor's jubilant atti- tude kept up until death. He paid no attention to his correspondence or manuscripts and spent the greater part of his time in his laboratory, presum- ably experimenting with numerous live aniraais which he had delivered each day. His first experi- ments, she stated, were with mice, rats and guinea ■ pigs. He next used cats, i-abfaits and small dogs, then larger dogs until, on the day before his death he had two huge mastiffs brought to the house and took them into the laboratory. None of the animals' taken behind the door ever reappeared, and she quite naturally assumed that they had been the subjects of vivisection. My theory, is that he — " The doctor was interrupted by a loud rap at the study door. He rose and opened it, revealing a sturdy uniformed policeman, A frightened house- maid peered around his huge bulk. The man seemed greatly perturbed. Hia voice shook as he asked — "Where's Eooney?" "He's on guard in the laboratory," replied the doctor. "Are you the man sent to relieve him?" "I'm Officer Burke, The maid, here, showed me to the laboratory, but Eooney ain't there. It's a horrible place. Don't blame him for leavip'." "Yes. That skeleton on the floor isn't exactly pretty." "That skeleton? You mean them skeletons. There was two of them, and one was dressed in a ■ cop's uniform!" With an exclamation of sui-priae and horror, the doctor threw down the manuscripts he was holding and rushed for the stairway. I followed breath- lessly.

A Strange Diary

WHAT we saw in that awful room of death confirmed our wildest fears. A skeleton, mth the bones whitened like those of the professor, lay on the floor facing the doorway. One bony arm was stretched across the threshold as if its owner had been attempting to drag himself from the room when struck down. A blue uniform bagged loosely over the bones, and on the feet were the heavy, hobnailed, square-toed shoes I 'had no- ticed on Rooney's feet some time before. The doctor squinted at the star on the breast of the recumbent figure. Then he turned to Officer Burke who had come up behind us. "What was Rooney's number?" he asked. "942." "Then this is Rooney's uniform and it probably is his skeleton. Call. up the chief and tell him what ' happened. This is horrible — diabolical !" "Your theory," I said, "does this shed any light on it?" "On the contrai'y," he replied, "It makes the case more baflling than ever. It seems incredible that such things can really happen. I tell you, Evans, there is some mysterious force at work here — something new and unheard of in the annals of scientific research. It is my opinion that the late Professor Townsend chanced upon some force hitherto unknown to scientists and played with it