Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-01-23
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 ing my vis.tors appeaied to my sens,
 Of humor. l tiptoed to the front stair
 way. ran lightly down, found the iron
 door, and, from the inside, opened ane
 slammed it. heard instantly hur
 ried scamper above, and the heavy fal
 of one who had stumbled in the dark
 l grinned with real pleasure at the
 sound of the mishap, hastened to the
 great library. which was as dark as 6
 well, and, opening one of the long win
 dows. stepped out on the balcony. Al
 once from the rear of the house came
 the sound of stealthy step, which
 increased to run at the ravine bridge
 I listened to the flight of the fugitive
 through the wood until the sounds died
 away toward the lake.
 Then, turning to the library window
 saw Bates, with candle held above
 his head, peering about.
 Hello, Bates" l called cheerfully
 T just got home and stepped out to
 See if the moon had risen I don't believe I know where to look for it in this country"
 He began lighting the tapers with his usual deliberation.
 Its trihe early, think, sir. About eight o'clock, I should say, was the hour, MT. Glenarm."
 There was, of course, no doubt what ever that Bates had been one of the men I heard in my room. It was wholly possible that he had been com pelled to assist in some lawless act against bis will; but why, if he had been forced into aiding a criminal, should he not invoke my own aid to protect himself? I kicked the logs Tn the fireplace impatiently at my un- certainty. The man slowly lighted the many candles in the great apart. ment. He was certainly a deep one, and his case grew more puzzling Xs studied 1t in relation to the rifle Shot of the night before, his collision with Morgan in the wood. which had wit messed; and now the house itself had been invaded by some one with his connivance. The rife shot might have been innocent enough; but taken in connection with these other matters 1t could hardly be brushed aside.
 Bates lighted me to the stairway, and said as passed him:
 There's baked ham for dinner. I should call 1t extra delicate, Mir. Glen arm. suppose there's no change in the dinner hour. sir?"
 Certainly not" said with asperity; for I am not person to inaugurate a dinner hour one day and change it the next. Bates wished to make conver- sation-the sure sign of guilty con. science in seryant.-snd l was not disposed to encourage him.
 closed the doors carefully and be- gan a thorough examination of both the sittingroom and the little bed chamber. l was quite sure that my own effects could not have attracted the two men who had taken advantage of my absence to visit my quarters. Bates had helped unpack my trunk and undoubtedly knew every item of my simple wardrobe. I threw open the doors of my three closets and found them all in the good order established by Bates. He had carried my trunks and bags to a store-room, 70 that everything I owned must have passed under his eye. My money even. the remnant of my fortune that l had drawn from the New York bank, l had placed carelessly enough in the drawer of . chiffonier otherwise filled with collars. It took but a moment to satisfy myself that this had not been touched. And, to be sure, a hammer was not necessary to open a drawer that had. from its appearance, never been locked. The game was deeper than l had imagined; I had scratched the crust without result. and my wits were busy with speculations as I brushed my clothes. pausing frequent. ly to examine the furniture. even the bricks on the hearth.
 One thing only I found-the slight scar of a hammer-head on the oak paneling that ran around the bed. room. The wood had been struck | near the base and at the top of every | panel, for though the mark was not on all. a test had evidently ! been made systematically. With this as . beginning. found a moment later . spot of tallow under a heavy table in one corner. Evidently the furniture had been moved to permit of the closest scrutiny of the paneling.
 Glenarm House really promised to prove exciting. I took from a drawer . small revolver. filled its chambers with cartridges and thrust it into my hip pocket, whistling meanwhile Larry Donovan's favorite air. The Marche Funebre de Marionnettes." My heart vent out to Larry as I scented adven- ture. and l wished him with me; but speculatIOns as to Larry's where abouts were always profitless. and quite likely he was in jail somewhere.
 The ham of whose excellence Bates had hinted was no disappointment There is. have always held. nothing better In this world than a properly baked ham. and the specimen Bates placed before me was a delight to the eye.-so adorned was 1t with spices;