charge me with knowing anything about the dreadful things that have been going on here—"
"I should bring no charge. You would merely be compelled to tell the truth. Your personal antagonism will not be permitted to interfere with the performance of my duty. Miss Chalmers, why did you announce your intention of leaving your home?"
"I didn't," she denied. "I said I would go and visit a girl friend for a few days; the atmosphere of this house had gotten on my nerves."
She spoke in a more subdued tone, but still sullenly.
"Then why did you tell your aunt this morning that you would not go near any of your friends and drag them into the notoriety of this case? Which was the falsehood, Miss Chalmers?"
"Neither. I—I changed my mind this morning, that is all."
"Where had you finally decided to go?"
Cissie hesitated and at length stammered:
"To—to a hotel. I would go anywhere to get away from this house. We are none of us safe here."
"Miss Chalmers, what precipitated your decision last night? Was it the outburst which your younger brother made at the table, the outburst in which he voiced the vague fears you had all entertained for the past week?"
"I suppose so," she shuddered. "It sounded so awful put into words. Of course, we are all dreadfully sorry for Rannie—you have heard that he is crippled?—and we try to be patient with his moods; but you haven't seen him, you don't know him, Sergeant Odell. He is so bitter, and his tongue is so ruthless, that you just can't have any real af-
