THE DEAD MAN For a full minute Marshall Allerdyke stood fixed--staring at the set features before him.

Then, with a quick catching of his breath, he made one step to his cousin's side and laid his hand on the unyielding shoulder.

The affectionate, familiar terms in which they had always addressed each other sprang involuntarily to his lips.
"Why, James, my lad!" he exclaimed.

"James, lad! James!" Even as he spoke, he knew that James would never hear word or sound again in this world.

It needed no more than one glance at the rigid features, one touch of the already fixed and statue-like body, to know that James Allerdyke was not only dead, but had been dead some time.