The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1912-09-05


driver had brought him to the wrong
bungalow. But II 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. was to him a small
oasis In a world of darkness. With
out advice he IA 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 o broad hallway
and a staircase rising to the upper
floor were visible. Limp. c~oollooking
rugs conceived In pleasing cLlor-
schemes protected tue hardwood floor
and permitted a broad shaft of light
to escape from the room beyond. On
the other hand a similar door. like
wise open. showed a DINNER glow.
Two other doors were closed;
ORourke 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
a matter Of ten minutes after eight;
strictly interpreting the intent of
Sypher's invitation, he was a trifie
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 the breeze. A number of wicker
armchairs stood about, invitingly fur
nished with cushions. O'Rourke Sc
iected zone and disposed himself to
wait.
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 cant all be
out. IT'S sorry | am I let that driver
go; more than likely this will be the
wrong house entirely. That must be
the trouble. I'll just SO. quietly fold
up me tent and decamp before the in
habitants, II any there be. discover
me and run me off the premises"
But at the head of the steps, with
foot poised to descend. something re.
strained him; 1t would be difficult to
say what, unless It were the unbroken,
~steadfast, upcanny quiet. "Ill have a
look" he determined suddenly; per
haps . !"
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 briiiiancy, 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 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 we're a few com
Portable chairs. . 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. fat-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 centered.
He remarked that 1t looked new and
very strong; 1t was open. disclosing
a variety of p~igeonholes 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 he'd 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 q
knife protruded from his back, buried
to its hilt Just beneath his left shout
der-blade.
O'Rourke moved over to the body
and lifted 1t 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 indistinguishable. 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, ne attributed II 70 the
stricken man at his feet; and In a des-
perate hope that the pulse of life
might stin finger In sypher's body. he
knelt. withdrew the knife. turned the
corpse upon IL back. and laid his q