"
He experienced difficulty making it light, but at last the tiny blaze
illumined the spot where we stood. I bent over, dreading the task, and
turned the dead man's face up to the flare. He was a man of middle age,
wearing a closely trimmed chin beard. I failed to recognize the
countenance, and glanced up questioningly at Miles just as he uttered an
exclamation of surprise.
"It's one of Mahoney's fellows, sir," he asserted sharply. "Burke's the
name."
"Then he couldn't possibly be the same man Miss Hardy saw up stairs
that first time."
"No, sir, this don't help none to clear that affair up. But it's Burke
all right, an' he's had a knife driven through his heart. What do you
ever suppose he could 'a' been doin' down here?"
"Where was he stationed?"
"He was with me till that last shindy started; then when you called for
more men in the kitchen I sent him an' Flynn out there."
Miles lit a third match, and I looked about striving to piece together
the evidence. I began to think I understood something of what had
occurred. This soldier, Burke, was a victim, not an assailant. He lay
with his hand still clasping the bar which had locked the door. He had
been stabbed without warning, and whoever did the deed had escaped over
the dead body.
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