Then he
started back with a cry of terror. He had touched something warm and
moist and sticky.
He rushed out into the hall, and as he looked at his hand he nearly
fainted. It was a mass of blood!
"Help! Help!" the boy screamed; and he turned and rushed down the
stairs into the office.
The proprietor came running in. "Look!" shouted Samuel. "Look what
she's done!"
"Good God!" cried the man. And he rushed upstairs, the other
following.
With trembling fingers the man lit the gas; and Samuel took one look,
and then turned away and caught at a table, sick with horror. The girl
was lying in the midst of a pool of blood; and across her throat, from
ear to ear, was a great gaping slit.
"Oh! oh!" gasped Samuel, and then--"I can't stand it!" And holding out
one hand from him, he hid his face with the other.
Meantime the proprietor was staring at him. "See here, young fellow,"
he said.
"What is it?" asked Samuel.
"When did you find out about this?"
"Why, just now. When I came in."
"You've been out?"
"Why of course. I went out just after we came."
"I didn't see you."
"No. I stopped in the office, but you weren't there."
"Humph!" said the man, "maybe you did and maybe you didn't. You can
tell it to the police."
"The police!" echoed Samuel; and then in sudden horror--"Do you think
_I_ did it?"
"I don't know anything about it," replied the other.
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