CHAPTER III.
"HEAVENS and earth! Why doesn't some one go to the door ?" exclaimed Mr.
Spencer Birtwell, rousing himself from a heavy sleep as the bell was rung for the third time, and now with four or five vigorous and rapid jerks, each of which caused the handle of the bell to strike with the noise of a hammer.
The gray dawn was just breaking.
"There it is again! Good heavens! What does it mean ?" and Mr.Birtwell, now fairly awake, started up in bed and sat listening.

Scarcely a moment intervened before the bell was pulled again, and this time continuously for a dozen times.

Springing from the bed, Mr.Birtwell threw open a window, and looking out, saw two policemen at the door.
"What's wanted ?" he called down to them.
"Was there a young man here last night named Voss ?" inquired one of the men.
"What about him ?" asked Mr.Birtwell.
"He hasn't been home, and his friends are alarmed.

Do you know where he is ?" "Wait, returned Mr.Birtwell; and shutting down the window, he dressed himself hurriedly.
"What is it ?" asked his wife, who had been awakened from a heavy slumber by the noise at the window.
"Archie Voss didn't get home last night." "What ?" and Mrs.Birtwell started out of bed.
"There are two policemen at the door." "Policemen!" "Yes; making a grand row for nothing, as if young men never stayed away from home.

I must go down and see them.