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Then the lights went on


THE CLOCK TOLD

Inspector Hogan Thought He Had the Murderer Locked Up.
But Do Ghosts Wind Clocks? The Clock Told a Different Tale

By John L. Tiernan

CHAPTER I A Midnight Call

IT was after eleven o'clock when the taxicab with George Lowe and the other man drew up before the Gilbert home. The only illumination in the house was a night lamp in the lower hall. The Gilberts had retired.

But George Lowe did not hesitate about the propriety of the call.

He dismissed the taxicab, led his companion to the porch, and rang the doorbell three times. There was no answer.

He rang again—insistently. George Lowe was determined.

He walked nervously up and down the narrow porch, puffing at a cigarette. His companion leaned against a pole, silent and patient.

Thirty seconds later George Lowe was at the bell button again, pushing.

"Give 'em a chance," suggested his companion mildly.

"Never mind!" snapped Lowe.

He was still jabbing at the button when an upper window opened.

"Yes?" called a man's voice.

Lowe ran to the edge of the porch.

"Is that you, Mr. Gilbert?" he demanded.

"Yes."

"Well, this is George Lowe."

The man at the window coughed.

"It is a rather late hour, George," he said significantly.

"I know it," replied George.

"And," added the man at the window, "Cleo isn't home."

"I don't want to see Cleo," said George; "I want to see you."

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