I
realized they must have made a mistake, and you'd come here, and I
called for a taxi and came out here. My taxi let me off at the
entrance around the block, and I've been looking for you down
there.... Poor Pete!" "Pete?" she asked. "Pete Friedburg. He was driving the old car. I lent him the keys and
my driver's license. I shouldn't have--but he's older and he kept
begging me...."

"Then--then it's Pete who was killed?" she gasped. "Pete who
was--burned?" "Yes, Pete. I feel terrible about lending him the car. But he was
supposed to be a good driver. And then them calling you, you and Dad
thinking it was me--"

"Then Mark was right. Of course he was right." She was laughing and
sobbing now. "It's just a bell, a pretty little bell, that's all." "Bell? I don't follow you, Mom." "Never mind," Edith Williams gasped. "It's just a bell. It hasn't any
powers over life and death. It doesn't bring back and it doesn't take
away. But let's get back up to your father. He may be thinking that
the bell--that the bell really worked." They climbed the rest of the steps. Dr. Mark Williams still lay where
he had fallen headlong on the pavement. The cab driver was bending
over him, but there was nothing to be done. The crystal bell had been
beneath him when he fell, and it had broken. One long, fine splinter
of crystal was embedded in his heart. *       *       *       *       *