Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1910-04-27
CHAPTER XIII.
A Might at the LaureIs.

A Night at the LaureIs.
slept most of the way to Cresson,
to the disgust of the little detective.
Finally he struck up an acquaintance
with a kindly faced old priest on his
way home to his convent school, armed
with a roll of dance music and sur
reptitious bundles that looked like
boxes of candy. From scraps of con-
versation l cleaned that there had
been mysterious occurrences at the
convent-ending in the theft Of what
the reverend father called vaguely "a
quantity of undermuslins." | dropped
asleep at that point and when / reused
a few moments later, the conversation
had progressed. Hotchkiss had dia-
gram on an envelope.
with this window bolted and that
one inaccessible and if, as you say, the
-er-garments were in a tub here at
x, then, as you hold the key to the
other door, think you said the con-
vent dog did not raise any disturb
ance? Pardon a personal question,
but do you ever walk in your sleep?"
"I'll tell you what to do" Hotchkiss
said, cheerfully, leaning forward, '1ook
around little yourself before you call
in the police Somnambulism is a
queer thing. It's a question whether
we are most ourselves sleeping or
waking. Ever think Of that? Live
sanity life all day, prayers and mathis
and all that, and the subconscious
mind hikes you out of bed at night
to steal undermuslins! Subliminal
theft, so to speak. Better examine the
roof"
I dozed again. When l wakened
Hotchkiss sat alone and the priest,
from a corner, was staring at him
dazedly over his breviary.
1t was raining when we reached
Cresson, a wind-driven rain that had
forced the agent at the news stand to
close himself in and that beat back
from the rails in parallel lines of
white spray. AS he went up the main
/ street Hotchkiss was cheerfully oDlivi-
GUS of the weather, of the threatening
dusk, of our generally draggled condi-
ton. My draggled condition, should
say, for he improved every moment
his eyes brighter, his ruddy face rud-
der, his collar newer and glossier.
Sometime, when it does not encircle
the little mans neck, shall test that
collar with a match.
l was growing steadily more de-
pressed: loathed my errand and its
necessity. l had always held that
man who played the spy on woman
was beneath contempt. Then, admit
was afraid of what l might learn.
For a time, however, this promised to
be a negligible quantity. The streets
of the struggling little mountain town
had been clean washed Of humanity
by the downpour. Windows and doors
were inhospitably shut and from
around an occasional drawn shade
came narrow strips of light that mere
ly emphasized our gloom. When Hotch-
kiss umbrella turned inside out,
stopped.
"I don't know where you are going"
l snarled, "and don't care. But I'm
going to get under cover inside of ten
seconds I'm not amphibious."
I ducked into the next shelter,
which happened to be the yawning en-
trance to a livery stable, and shook
myself, dog fashion. Hotchkiss wiped
his collar with his handkerchief. 1t
emerged cleaning and unwilted.
"This will do as well as any place."
he said, raising his voice above the
rattle of the rain. Got to make be-
ginning"
l sat down on the usual chair with
out a back, just inside the door, and
stared out at the darkening street
The whole affair had an air of unreal
ity. Now that l was there / doubted
the necessity or the value of the jour
ney. l was wet and uncomfortable.
Around me, with Cresson as a center,
stretched an irregular circumference
Of mountain, with possibly ten-mile
radius, and in it was to find the res
idence of a woman whose first name
1 did not know and a man who, so
far, had been a purely chimerical per
son.
Hotchkiss had penetrated the steam
ing interior of the cave and now his
voice, punctuated by the occasional
thud Of horses hoofs, came to me.
Something light will do" he was
saying. "a runabout, perhaps" He
came forward rubbing his hands, fol-
lowed by thin man in overalls. "Mr.
Peck says" he bagan-"this is Mr..
Peck of Peck & Peck-says that the
place we are looking for is about
seven miles from the town. It's clear
Ing. isn't it,"