The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-01-12

| terry of the Cedar Room. | would
have given anything on earth to
have penetrated its mysteries to-
night but | dared not. To risk my
own life was to risk tne only hope
had of rescuing my brother. If
he still lived, of ayenging him if
he had met a horrible death at
the post of duty. Tomorrow, when
a thorough and detailed report of
all | believed and feared had been
sent in to my superior | could af
ford to take the risk. Tonight
The knowledge that Harold Rey-
nolds and Philip May were one, that
my brother had been sent on
secret and especial mission to
Ridsely, had come to me with all
the force Of a thmderbolt. was
quite sure, | flncied at least that
! was, that Areana had not guessed
the relationship between me and the
late suitor for his sisters hand. n
he had-but the idea led me off into
such a jumbled mudde of theories.
each madder than the last that
| obandoned it at once
Downstairs confusion reigned for
long time. People came and went.
| heard voices, hushed little be-
cause of that locked door down the
hall, more than once.
But by and by the house grew
quiet / waited a long time before
making any move. Then | struck .
match, and holding the flame to
the face of my watch, saw that it
was after one o'clock. The rain
had almost ceased. could still
hear the soft, sopplng drip from
the caves, but the wind had ulled
and the night had grown very
still.
| opened my door softly and look
ed outside. The night was pitchy
dark, and the light In the hall had
ben turned out. | moved stealthily
in thedirection of Areanas door
| wanted to assure myself before |
went any further that he was in
bed and asleep. If he had not doubt
ed my statement made to him ear.
lier in the evening / had moth
ing to fear from MIN. If he had
doubled
So far as could tell he was
asleep. There was no light in his
room, and though paused with
my ear to the keyhole / could not
hear the ghost of a sound.
| CROPPED my way downstairs, still
moving slowly, inch by inch, hold
ing my breath, when loose board
creaked even under my careful
tread.
The library door stood open Just
as we had left it earlier in the
evening. So much was | able to as
sure myself of by the sense of
touch, and the library itself only
showed as a scrap of gloom in the
lesser Harkness. / went inside,
closed the dor noiselessly, and flash
ed the light of my dark.lantern over
the wide ROOM 1t was quite empty.
The first thing l did after that
was to turn the key in the door.
Then, quite sure that was safe
from observation, | muffed the bell
of the telephone so as to make as
little noise as possible and rang it
cautiously. was determined to
make one more effort in the only
direction that the night promised
me. | had heard my brothers voice
once; | was determined to hear It
again.
There was no answer to my call.
and rang again-and yet
again. 1t was of no use. There was
faint whirring, buzzing sound, but
my ears told me that somewhere
wire had been ground
ed ana communication cut off. Some
one had grown suspicious, and con-
nection with the world outside
the black, shadowy gulf from which
that cry for help had come-had
been cut off.
/ sprung the slide of my dark Ian. !
tern, and the slender shaft of light
faded slowly to a needle of flame. ,
then at another touch went out. |
had fancied that / had heard a $
sound in the hall outside. Ny train I
I'd ears, and something keener than {
any hearing, however, strained. tod I
ne that someone was afoot in the
silent house.
| stepped behind the heavy dra-
'ery Of one of the long windows {
md waited a long time. My patience !