has just been peering in through that window there, and he means no good." "Why, you're mad," I remonstrated. "He couldn't peer in at the window--we are on the fourth floor, and there is no possible way in which he could reach the window, much less peer in at it." "Nevertheless," insisted Parton, "Carleton Barker for ten minutes previous to your waking was peering in at me through that window there, and in his glance was that same malignant, hateful quality that so set me against him to-day--and another thing, Bob," added Parton, stopping his nervous walk for a moment and shaking his finger impressively at me--"another thing which I did not tell you before because I thought it would fill you with that same awful dread that has come to me since meeting Barker--the blood from that man's arm, the blood that stained his shirt-sleeve crimson, that besmeared his clothes, spurted out upon my cuff and coat-sleeve when I strove to stanch its flow!" "Yes, I remember that," said I. "And now look at my cuff and sleeve!" whispered Parton, his face grown white. I looked. There was no stain of any sort whatsoever upon either! Certainly there must have been something wrong about Carleton Barker. II The mystery of Carleton Barker was by no means lessened when next morning it was found that his room not only was empty, but that, as far as one could judge from the aspect of things therein, it had not been occupied at all. Furthermore, our chance acquaintance had vanished, leaving no more trace of his whereabouts than if he had never existed. "Good riddance," said Parton. "I am afraid he and I would have come to blows sooner or later, because the mere thought of him was beginning to inspire me with a desire to thrash him. I'm sure he deserves a trouncing, whoever he is." I, too, was glad the fellow had passed out of our ken, but not for the reason advanced by Parton. Since the discovery of the stainless