as he came near. "And how is it about the roof promenade?"
"Why, all right, I guess, Miss Dorne—after a little." Controlling himself to an appearance of casualness, he turned then to Avery: "By the way, can I see you a moment?"
Without alarming Harriet Dorne, he got Avery away and out of the car. A few passengers now were collected upon the platforms between this car and the next, who questioned and complained as Eaton, pushing by them with Avery, was admitted by the negro, who refused the others admittance.
"Is it something wrong with Mr. Dorne?" Donald Avery demanded as Eaton drew back to let Avery precede him into the open part of the car.
"So the conductor says."
Avery hurried forward toward the berth where Connery was standing beside the surgeon. Connery turned toward him.
"I sent for you, sir, because you are the companion of the man who had this berth."
Avery pushed past him, and leaped forward as he looked past the surgeon. "What has happened to Mr. Dorne?"
"You see him as we found him, sir." Connery stared down nervously beside him.
Avery leaned inside the curtains and recoiled. "He's dead!"
"The doctor hasn't made his examination yet; but, there seems no doubt he's dead." Connery was very pale but controlled.
"He's been murdered!"
"It looks so, Mr. Avery. Yes; if he's dead, he's cer-
