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Death in SAN FRANCISCO BAY AREA..."Out of the blue, from across the hall, emerged a cry - sharpened, uncanny, bad. I ran away in the direction from which it experienced come and stood on the threshold of the Drew dining room. A table was arranged with gleaming magic and white linen, and in its center stood a cake, which fifty absurd pink candles flickered bravely. There were nobody in the room. On the other side of the table, a French home window stood open to the fog, and I gone around to investigate. I had used perhaps a dozen steps when I stopped, appalled. "Old Drew was laying on the carpet, and one yellowish lean side, always so adept at reaching out and seizing, held a part of the white tablecloth. There was a dark stain on the remaining area of his dress cover; and when I taken the coat back again, I observed on the in any other case spotless linen underneath a great red group that grew and grew. He was quite useless. "I stood erect, as well as for a dazed uncertain point in time, I stared about the room. Beside me, up for grabs, fifty yellow factors of fire trembled like real human things terrified at what they had seen."
