The Twin Falls times. [volume] (Twin Falls, Idaho) 1905-1916, 1914-01-27


| tinued to watch him, albeit but hazily
conscious Of the fact, because his
| thoughts were occupied with matters
| of vastly more importance to himself
| That Is to say, at the time he fancied
| they were of more Importance; subse-
| quently his opinions on this score un-
| derwent decided change.
| Only few seconds later, in truth,
he regretted that he had not given the
man more of his attention-sufficien
| at least, to recall something of his
| appearance. But even at that, he
never dreamed how nearly the cpl
sode affected himself at the moment,
nor did he have any premonition of the
extraordinary events that we're to en-
sue in the Immediate future.
| The man was walking with certain
hating, indefinite slowness, the while
he studied the house numbers, as if
in search of particular one.
All at once he stopped stock-still.
| Van Vechten, as 1t CHANGED failed to
observe this, for his eyelids, heavy
with loss OF sleep, chose this precise
second t2 curtain the scene. Nothing
had yet Occurred to prick his curiosity.
His lids dropped only for an instant,
to be sure; but within that brief space
the strange MAS bearing had sud-
denly altered. He had thrown off his
irresolution, and had gone quickly up
the steps of the house directly oppo-
site. Van vechten opened his eyes
only just in time to see him disap-
pearing through the doorway, and the
door itself swing shut.
The Silent House! The House of
Mystery! The house wherein nobody
had even been seen to enter!
There was no mistaking the fact
that Van Vechten was galvanized into
an alertness which, had it been almost
anybody else under the same condi-
tons, would have amounted to excite
| ment.
"Say!" he demanded of himself I'M
der his breath. us this pipe-dream?
Or did somebody really go into that
house?" And after reflective pause:
mo, I wasn't asleep" he deliberate
ly settled the unwonted occurrence in
his mind; II saw the chap coming
/ along the walk. Let's see-what did
| he look like? What was he doing?
What the dickens does it mean. any
| how?"
There was nothing or nobody to an
swer these puzzled inquiries. He was
convinced that he had remained
awake, although drifting along the bor-
derland of slumber, because he dis
tinctly recalled having heard the clock
In the hall strike nine. He glanced at
his watch. Yes, only nine So he
could not have been asleep, even for
a second.
All of which may seem ridiculous
ly trivial matter to be the occasion of
so much concern; but anybody &C.
quainted with the circumstances
would not have thought so.
To begin with, there was something
positively repellent in the very appear
ance of the house across the way.
Even the number on the fanIight-by
pure accident, 1913, for it was an old.
old number and not the true one at
all--was doubly and reiteratively I'M
inviting to persons owning supersti-
tious weaknesses. And who of us, to
some extent, does not? Erected in the
days when high, narrow brownstone
fronts were accepted as the hallmark
of affluence it still successfully re-
sisted the encroachments of improve
ment which otherwise modernized and
beautiied the thoroughfare.
At the time the Powhatan Club
moved into it's new quarters Number
1913 was vacant and had remained so
up to something like three months
prior to the opening of this story
that is to say, not quite two years.
How long previously to that 1t had
stood empty no club member could
say. During all the period within their
knowledge it's begrimed facade had
been an eyesore and an object of exc
Grafton; somber and brooding it was a
sort of memento mort to the idlers
behind the big plate glass windows of
the lounging-room, a silent but per-
petual rebuke to the folly of their
lives; which attribute had more than
once called forth passionately resent
| full TRADE from some member who had
|
| sumed too much alcohol the night be-
| fore.
Then one afternoon the club was
electrified. Tom Phinney had been
staring unseeingly into the street for
some minutes. 1t struck him all at
| once that the windows and the front
| door across the way were no longer
boarded, and that all the windows
wore blinds; the red stone steps, how
ever, showed no indication of having
| been recently cleaned.
Il say, fellows" he abrutly sang out,
"thirteen-thirteen's occupied"
There was a concerted movement
toward the clubs window; everybody
present left off whatever he happened
to be doing at the moment and stood
silently gaping at the gloomy front.