Some of
'em learns it from the blitherin' Chaneymen."
I was mystified at the moment, but I found later that he suspected me
of having had an opium dream. The house, I learned, was frequented by
the "opium fiends," as they figure in police slang.
"It's a nasty place," he continued. "It's lucky I've got a light." He
brought up a dark lantern from his overcoat pocket, and stood in the
shelter of the building as he lighted it. "There's not many as carries
'em," he continued, "but they're mighty handy at times."
We made our way to the point beneath the window, where the men had
stood.
There was nothing to be seen--no sign of struggle, no shred of torn
clothing, no drop of blood. Body, traces and all had disappeared.
CHAPTER III
A QUESTION IN THE NIGHT
I was stricken dumb at this end to the investigation, and half doubted
the evidence of my eyes.
"Well," said the policeman, with a sigh of relief, "there's nothing
here."
I suspected that his doubts of my sanity were returning.
"Here is where it was done," I asserted stoutly, pointing to the spot
where I had seen the struggling group from the window. "There were
surely five or six men in it."
The policeman turned his lantern on the spot. The rough pavement had
taken no mark of the scuffle.
"It's hard to make sure of things from above in this light," said the
policeman, hinting once more his suspicion that I was confusing dreams
with reality.
"There was no mistaking that job," I said.
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