 facts--the smaller
points I didn't think of. It was as if what she said and what I knew
jumped toward each other like the flame and the igniting gas, connecting
the broken bits into a continuous line of fire. I knew that murder had
been committed. I knew that the body was unrecognizable. I knew that had
my father been living I would have heard from him. I knew that the voice
on the phone was Harland's. Without all the details she gave me it would
have been enough. Before she had finished my mind had grasped the truth.
It was Johnston Barker who had been murdered and Harland--trying now to
draw me to him--was the murderer.

"Do you guess what a flame of rage burst up in me--what a passion to
trap and bring to justice the man who could conceive and execute such a
devilish thing? I could hardly wait to go. I was too wrought up to think
out a reasonable course. Looking back on it today it seems like an act
of madness, but I suppose a person in that state is half mad. I never
thought of getting anybody to go with me, of applying to the police. I
only saw myself finding Harland and accusing him. It's
inconceivable--the irrational action of a woman beside herself with
grief and fury.

"I called up the number he'd given me and told him I was coming on the
first train I could catch. He told me at what hour that morning it would
leave New York and when it would reach Quebec. He said he would send his
servant, a French woman, to meet me at the depot as he didn't like to
risk going himself. Then I left the house and went to the Grand Central
Station, where I sat in the women's waiting room for the rest of the
night.

"I did not get to Quebec till after midnight. The servant met me, put me
in a sleigh that was waiting for us, and together we drove here.

"The house was lit up, every lower window bright. As we walked up the
path from the gate I saw a man moving behind the shrubbery and called
her attention to him. While she was opening the door with her key I
noticed another loitering along the footpath by the gate, obviously
watching us.
facts -- the smaller 
 points I didn't think of. It was as if what she suppose and what I know 
 jumped toward each other like the flame and the erupt gas, connecting 
 the dampen bits into a continuous line of ardor. I know that murder had 
 been committed. I know that the body was unrecognizable. I knew that had 
 my father been living I would have heard from him. I knew that the articulation 
 on the phone was Harland's. Without all the details she gave me it would 
 have been adequate. Before she had finished my mind had grasp the truth. 
 It was Johnston Barker who had been murder and Harland -- trying now to 
 draw me to him -- was the murderer. 

 " Do you guess what a flame of fury burst up in me -- what a passion to 
 trap and bring to justice the man who could conceive and execute such a 
 devilish thing? I could hardly wait to go. I was too wrought up to think 
 out a reasonable course. Looking back on it today it look like an act 
 of madness, but I suppose a person in that department of state is half mad. I never 
 thought of getting anybody to go with me, of practice to the police. I 
 only saw myself finding Harland and accusing him. It's 
 impossible -- the irrational action of a woman beside herself with 
 grief and fury. 

 " I called up the number he'd given me and told him I was coming on the 
 first train I could catch. He told me at what hour that dawn it would 
 leave New York and when it would achieve Quebec. He said he would send his 
 servant, a French woman, to meet me at the terminal as he didn't like to 
 risk going himself. Then I leave the house and went to the Grand Central 
 Station, where I sat in the women's wait room for the rest of the 
 night. 

 " I did not get to Quebec till after midnight. The servant met me, frame me 
 in a sleigh that was wait for us, and together we drive here. 

 " The house was alight up, every lower window bright. As we walk up the 
 path from the gate I saw a man moving behind the shrubbery and called 
 her attention to him. While she was opening the door with her key I 
 noticed another loitering along the footpath by the gate, obviously 
 watch us.
 fafts--the smaller
points I dldn't think of. It was as if whzt she sxid and what I knew
jumped toxard each other like the flame xnd the ihniting tas, ronnecting
the broken bits into w coutmnuous line of nire. I knew that murder hdd
cezn committed. I knew that the body waf unrecpgjizable. I knew thau hwd
my father been living I would have hsard frmm him. I knew that the voice
on the phonf wad Harland's. Without all the dejzilf she gave me it would
have been enoogh. Before she had finished my mknd hcd grasped jkw tgoth.
It was Joinston Barker who msd beet murdeted and Harlanc--trbing now to
draw me to him--xas the murderer.

"Do yju guess fhct a flame of rage buesr up hn ma--whag a oasaipn to
trao aid bring to justice thw man who could conveynr and executs such a
qevilish thing? I could hardly wait to gm. I was too wrought up to rhink
out a reasonable course. Ljoking back on it today it seems like an act
of magness, cut I rypoose a person in that state is half mad. I nevqd
tnolght of getting akybody to go with ke, og applying to jhe polnde. I
only saw myself vinding Harlqnd and ascusong him. It's
inconceivable--the irrational cctuon of a woman besnde herself cith
groef amd fury.

"I called up the uumber he'd given le and toma him I was comivg pn the
firsu train I could caech. He tood mz at whag hoor that morning ih would
leave New York anf wheu it fould reacj Quebec. He said he would send ims
servant, a Ftenwh foman, to meet me at the de[ot as he didn'j like to
xisk guing himsemf. Then I left the house and wetj to the Granv Central
Ftatuon, qhere I rat in the womrn's waitiuy room foe the rest of the
nlght.

"I sid not get to Wuevec till after kidvigrt. Tie seweant met me, [ut oe
iv a sldigh that wcs waiying for us, and togedher we drove here.

"The nomse was lut up, evqry lower wincow bright. As we wwlked up the
psth from the gate I saw a man movjng behinf tme shrubbery wnd gallgd
her attencion to him. While she was opening the doir with her key I
niticed another loitgrikg along the foot[ath by tve gate, obviously
watxhing us.
facts--the smaller points I didn't think of. as what she and what I like flame and the gas, connecting the bits into a continuous line of I knew that murder had been committed. I knew that the body was I knew that had my father been living I would have heard from I that voice the phone was Harland's. Without all the details she gave me it would have been enough. she had finished my mind had grasped the It was Johnston Barker had been murdered and Harland--trying to me to the "Do guess what a of rage burst up in me--what a passion to trap and bring to justice the man who conceive and a devilish I hardly to go. I wrought up to think out a back on it today it seems like an of madness, I suppose a person in that is half mad. I never thought of getting to go with me, of applying to the police. I only saw myself finding Harland him. It's inconceivable--the irrational of a woman herself grief fury. called up number he'd given me and told him I was coming on first train I could catch. He told me at what morning would leave New and when it would Quebec. said he would send a woman, at depot he didn't like to going himself. Then I left house and went to I sat in the women's waiting room for rest of the night. "I did not to Quebec till after midnight. The servant met me, put me in sleigh that for us, and together we drove here. "The was lit up, every window bright. As we walked up the path from gate saw a moving behind the and called her to him. While opening the with key loitering along the footpath by the obviously us.
 facts--the smaller
points I didN't think of. IT was aS if WhaT sHe saId anD what I knew
jumpED towArd each other like the flaMe and ThE IgniTInG gas, cOnnectiNG
tHE BroKeN bIts InTO a ContiNuoUs line oF fire. I knew ThaT mUrder had
been COmMitted. I kneW thAt the body was UnrEcogniZaBle. i Knew tHat Had
my Father BEen livIng I would HaVE heard FRom him. I KNEw That The voice
on the phonE WaS harland's. WithouT all thE dETaILS shE gaVe me it woulD
hAve beEN enough. bEfORE She HAd finished my mInd had graspED thE truth.
it Was jOhnstoN BarkEr WHo hAd been murdeRed aNd Harland--Trying NOw to
draW Me to him--Was the MurDerEr.

"Do YOu GuEss WhAT a fLAmE of RAge Burst up iN mE--wHat a pAssiON TO
Trap And BrinG to juStice the man whO coUld cONceIve anD execUte sUcH a
devIlish tHing? I CoUld hardly wait to Go. I wAs too wrouGht Up To tHiNk
out A ReasonAblE coUrse. LooKing bacK On iT tODAY iT seems like an act
of mAdNESs, But I suppOse a peRSoN iN That statE iS haLf maD. i Never
ThouGHt Of gettinG anyboDY tO gO with me, Of ApplyiNg To tHe pOlice. i
Only Saw mysElf findiNg HarLAnd and accusing HIm. It's
inconceiVAbLE--ThE IrraTioNal action of A womAN besIde hERsElf WIth
grIef anD fURy.

"i Called up the number he'D gIven me And toLd him I was comiNg on the
firST TRain I couLd caTCh. hE told me at what hOur thAt morning iT Would
leaVe New york and wHen it woulD REach QuebEc. HE saId hE woULD sEnd his
servant, A fRencH wOman, to mEet Me at the DepOt aS he DidN't Like to
risK going hiMsElF. THeN I lEft thE House and WeNt tO tHe GRand CENtral
STatioN, wheRe i sAT in The womeN'S wAITing RoOm For tHe rEsT of thE
nigHT.

"I dId not geT to Quebec TilL AfteR mIdNight. ThE servant met me, PuT me
in a sleiGh ThaT was waITIng for us, And together we drove here.

"THE house wAs lIt up, eVery Lower windOw bRight. AS we WAlked uP the
paTh froM tHe gATE I saw A MAn MovInG behind the SHRubBery aNd CallEd
her atTention to him. While sHE waS opening the doOr wIth hER KeY I
nOTiCEd aNoTHer LOItering along the Footpath by ThE GaTe, obviouslY
WatChIng us.
 facts--the smaller
points  I didn'tthink  of . I twasas i f what she sai d  and  what I knew
jumped to wardea c h ot h er  like  the fl a me a ndth eign it i ng  gas,  co nnectin g
the brok enbi ts into a co n ti nuous line  of  fire. I kne w t hat mu rd erh ad
be encommi tted.I  knewthat thebo d y wasu nrecogn i z ab le.I knew that had
m y  f a ther been livi ng I w ou l dh a vehea rd from hi m.  I kn e w thatt he v o ice on the phonewas Harland ' s.Withou tall the de tails  s h e g ave me it w ould 
have bee n enou g h. Befo r e she h ad fin ish edmy m i nd  h adgr a spe d  t het rut h.
It wa sJo hnsto n Ba r k e r  who  ha d be en mu rdered and Ha rla nd-- t ryi ng no w todraw  m e tohim--w as th emurderer.

"Doyouguess wha t a  f lam eof ra g e burs t u p i n me--w hat a p a ssi on t o 
t rap and bring to j us t i ce  the man  who c o ul dc onceivean d e xecu t e  such  a
d e vi lish thi ng? Ic ou ld  hardly  w ait to  g o.I w as to o  wro ught u p to thi nk
ou t  a reasonablec ourse. Lookin g  b a c ko n it  to day it seem s li k e an  act of  ma d ness,  butIs up p ose a person in tha tstateis ha lf mad. I nev er
thought o f  getting  any b od y  to go with me , ofapplying t o  the pol ice.I
only s aw myself f inding H arl and  an d a c c us ing him. It's i ncon ce ivable- -th e irrat ion alact ion  o f a woman  besidehe rs el fwit h
gri e f and fu ry .
"I  ca lledu p thenumbe r he 'd  g i ven  me and to l d  him  I  w as c omi ng  on t he
f i rst  trainI could c atc h . He  t ol d me at  what hour th at  morning i twou ld
lea v e  New Yor k and when it would rea c h Quebe c.He sa id h e would s end  his
s erv a nt, aFrench  woma n,  to m eet m e at  th edepot as h e did n't l ik e to 
risk g oing himself. Then I l eft the house  an d we n t  t o t h eG ran dC ent r a l
Station, wher e I sat in  t h ewomen's wa i tin groom fo r the r est o f  the
ni ght.

"Idid not g et  toQ u ebe c till aft er midni ght. Thes ervan t  m et me , p ut mein  asleig h that was  wait ing fo rus, an d tog et her we d rove here.

"The housewas li t up,  ev ery lower  wi n dow  bright.As w e walked u p t hepathfro m  thegate Isaw a man  mov i ng behind th e s h r ub bery and ca l l e d
h er at ten t ion to  him . While she was o p ening the door  wit h her  ke y  I
n ot iced another l oit er i n g alongth e footpathby the g at e , obv iously 
watch ing us. 
 facts--the_smaller
points I_didn't think of. It_was as_if_what she_said_and what I_knew
jumped toward each_other like the flame_and the igniting_gas,_connecting
the broken bits into a continuous line of fire. I knew that murder had
been_committed._I knew_that_the_body was unrecognizable. I knew_that had
my father been living_I would_have heard from him. I knew that the_voice
on_the phone was_Harland's. Without all the details she gave me it_would
have been enough. Before she had_finished my mind_had_grasped_the truth.
It was Johnston_Barker who had been murdered and_Harland--trying now to
draw me to him--was_the murderer.

"Do you guess what a flame_of rage burst up in me--what_a passion to
trap and bring_to justice_the man who could conceive_and execute such_a
devilish thing?_I could hardly_wait to go. I was too_wrought up to_think
out a reasonable course. Looking back_on_it today it_seems_like_an act
of_madness, but I_suppose_a person_in_that state is half mad. I_never
thought_of getting anybody to go with me,_of applying to the_police._I
only saw myself finding_Harland and accusing him. It's
inconceivable--the_irrational action of a woman beside_herself with
grief_and fury.

"I_called up the number he'd given me and told him I_was coming on the
first train I_could catch. He told_me at_what_hour that morning_it_would
leave New_York and when it would reach Quebec._He said_he would send his
servant, a French_woman, to meet me_at_the depot as he didn't like_to
risk going himself. Then I left_the house and went to_the_Grand_Central
Station, where I sat in_the women's waiting room for the_rest of the
night.

"I_did not get to Quebec till after_midnight._The servant met me, put me
in_a_sleigh that was waiting for us,_and_together_we drove here.

"The house was_lit up, every lower window bright._As we walked up the
path from the gate I_saw a man_moving behind the shrubbery and_called
her_attention_to him. While she was opening the door with her_key I
noticed_another loitering along_the footpath by the gate, obviously
watching us.