The face at the window was that of his friend, HARPER ELLISTON! His
presence here was one of the mysteries of that eventful night.
CHAPTER XII.
A BURNING TRAP.
For some moments Dyke Darrel stared at the face in the window without
moving. How came Harper Elliston in the woods at Black Hollow, when he
ought to have been in Chicago, according to his expressed intentions
of the previous day?
With a sudden, wild scream the crazed Sibyl darted across the floor,
and thrust her hands against the window with such violence as to burst
the glass, cutting her hands severely in the operation.
"Hubert! Hubert! come at last!" The girl staggered back and sank in a
paroxysm to the floor.
It was indeed a startling affair, yet Dyke Darrel did not lose his
presence of mind. He hurried to the door and opened it, springing
outside quickly.
"Elliston, I want you."
Dyke Darrel stood by the broken window now, but the man he had
expected to find was not there. The apparition had vanished as though
fleeing into the upper air.
Again the detective called the name of his friend, but without
receiving a reply.
Here was a mystery indeed.
Had that face at the window been an optical delusion, after all?
Dyke Darrel was not superstitious, yet in the present case a queer
feeling oppressed him, and an awful misgiving entered his mind.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83