The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1912-07-18


dering If by mischance the native
driver had brought him to the wrong
bungalow. But it was now too late to
call him back and make sure. And
this verandah, still and empty as 1t
was, softly lighted by lanterns depend
ent from Its roof, vas to him a small
oasis In a world of darkness. With
out advice he vas lost, could find his
way no other where. He would have
simply to wait until the house
hold came to life, or until by his own
efforts he succeeded in quickening 1t.
He tried to do this latter to the
best of his ability by tapping a sum-
mons on the door-jamb. Through the
wire insect-screens a broad hallway
n a staircase rising to the upper
floor were visible. Limp, c%ool-looking
rugs conceived in pleasing color
schemes protected the hardwood floor
Ing. To the right a door stood ajar
and permitted a broad shaft of light
to escape from the room beyond. On
q other hand a similar door, like.
wise open. showed a DINNER glow.
Two other doors were closed:
O'Rourke assumed that they led to
the kitchen Offices.
having waited a few moments with
out event. the Irishman' knocked a sec
ond time. and would have knocked a
third when he thought better of 1t
and glanced at his watch. 1t was only
q matter of ten minutes after eight;
strictly interpreting the intent of
Sypher's invitation, he was a trile
early. Presumably the servants were
all out OF earshot, %preoccupied with
preparations for the meal; while
Sypher and his niece were most prob
ably still dressing.
With an impatient air O'Rourke
turned back to the veranda. A ham.
mock In n corner was swinging idly
In b breeze. A number of wicker
armchairs stood about, invitingly fur
nished with cushions. O'Rourke Sc
lected one and disposed himself tt
wait. b
After five minutes he frowned
thoughtfully and lit a cigarette.
Faith. it's a fine surprise he's Civ
en- me-" he said, %irresolute. But II
can't be premeditated insult. Why
should 1t be? And they can't all b
out. IT'S sorry I am I let that driver
go; more than likely this will be the
wrong house entirely. That must be
the trouble. I'll just go, quietly fold
up me tent and decamp before the in
habitants. If any there be. discover
ME and run me off the premises"
But at the head of the steps. will
foot poised to descend, something re
strained him; it would be difficult tt
say what, unless it were the unbroken
steadfast, uncanny quiet. "Ill have q
look" he determined suddenly; per
maps . 4.
He turned to the right and stopped
before a long. open window. looking
into what seemed to be a music room
and library combined. Brilliantly IL
Illuminated by hanging lamps of un
usual brilliancy, the interior was clear
ly revealed. And with an abrupt ex
clamation the adventurer entered, feel
ing for the revolver, to carry which
had of late become habitual with him
The room was simply furnished, II
tastefully. There was a grand piano
near the veranda windows with a mu
sic rack and cabinet near by. Dis
persed about the floor ri a few com
Portable chairs, a rug of rare Orien'
tai texture, two consoles adorned with
valuable porcelains. In the middle OF
the room stood a draped comfortable
Uttered with books and magazines; to.
ward the back a long, %f1at-topped desk.
And against the rear wall, ordinarily
hidden by a folding screen of Japan
csc manufacture, now swept aside,
was a small steel safe. Upon this
O'Rourke's attention was conferred.
He remarked that it looked new and
very strong; it was open, disclosing
a variety of -pigeonholes more or less
occupied by docketed documents, and
a smaller interior stronghold.
Between the desk and the safe a man
lay prone and quite motionless. He
was dressed for a ceremonious dinner.
and apparently had been struck down
in the act of stepping from his desk
to the safe. For beyond all doub. he
had been murdered. The haft of a
knife protruded from his back, buried
to its hilt just beneath his left shout
der-b1ade.
O'Rourke moved over to the body
and lifted it by the shoulders, turn
ing the face to the light. Then, with
a low oath, he dropped it.
A small sound, SO slight as to be all
but indtstinguishable, penetrated
O'Rourke's stupefaction. He stood
erect. looking about. telling himself
that the noise resembled as much as
anything the hushed cry Of a child
sobbing in sleep, soft and infinitely
pathetic. Unable to assign its source
elsewhere. he attributed 1t to the
stricken man at his feet; and in a des-
perate hope that the pulse Of life
might still linger III sypher's body, he
knelt, withdrew the knife. turned the
corpse upon its back. and laid his ear