Where is Halsey

At the word there was a commotion. The cook began to cry, and Mrs.
Watson knocked over a chair. The men were visibly impressed.

"Not any member of the family?" Mr. Jarvis asked, when he had got his
breath.

"No," I said; and motioning Liddy to look after Gertrude, I led the way
with a lamp to the card-room door. One of the men gave an exclamation,
and they all hurried across the room. Mr. Jarvis took the lamp from
me--I remember that--and then, feeling myself getting dizzy and
light-headed, I closed my eyes. When I opened them their brief
examination was over, and Mr. Jarvis was trying to put me in a chair.

"You must get up-stairs," he said firmly, "you and Miss Gertrude, too.
This has been a terrible shock. In his own home, too."

I stared at him without comprehension. "Who is it?" I asked with
difficulty. There was a band drawn tight around my throat.

"It is Arnold Armstrong," he said, looking at me oddly, "and he has
been murdered in his father's house."

After a minute I gathered myself together and Mr. Jarvis helped me into
the living-room. Liddy had got Gertrude up-stairs, and the two strange
men from the club stayed with the body. The reaction from the shock
and strain was tremendous: I was collapsed--and then Mr. Jarvis asked
me a question that brought back my wandering faculties.

"Where is Halsey?" he asked.

"Halsey!" Suddenly Gertrude's stricken face rose before me the empty
rooms up-stairs. Where was Halsey?