Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1917-09-25
hope to recover them when the war

I hope to recover them when the war
is over.'"
Armed with hammer and screw.
driver, husband and wife repaired 70
the parlor and locked themselves with
in, greatly to the disgust Of the In
terested Nora, who availed herself Of
the keyhole as the only salve TO her
wounded self respect.
my dear girl, how do you think I'm
going to handle this thing alonef It
weighs a ton! Why wasn't It put In
the guest room"
"The instant ! saw Il In the wagon
knew it would never at into that
room, so I told them to put 1t II here.
We can remove It to the cellar after.
ward-or store It."
1T fits In here" remarked Win
chester.
LET US rip OF the covering-I be-
lieve l know just where to place my
finger on the spring! This Is the head
board, Of course, and here are the gar
goylesw cried Flora eXcitedly.
Winchester took out his knife and
leisurely opened the blade. He lifted
one corner of the bedstead, groaned
and dropped It heavily.
There was q straining and swapping
Of cords as he applied his knife to the
wrappings.
"Oh, Oh! am just as nervous as !
can bew cried Flora, regardless Of her
husbands groan as he dragged aside
the covering and disclosed the round
ed, polished top outlined by a semi
circle of hideously carved faces.
"Jove, what a beauty" calculated
Winchester, yet with a note Of re-
spect In his tone. what o night
mare! Fancy wishing a guest pleas
ant dreams and then introducing him
to that couch! Whew! Now, which
face, Flora, lover"
Mrs. Winchester triumphantly pro-
duced the paper from her laces and
read solemnly: "The thirteenth gar
goyle from either end"
"The one In the middle, Of course"
announced Winchester.
"'Press the right eye," quoted Mrs.
Winchester breathlessly. II shall have
them set in glorious pendant, Harry!
They hung expectantly over the bed
snow press" she whispered sibi-
lantly.
Winchester pressed.
Nothing doing" he announced h6tly.
"Press harder" urged his wife. 'AThe
secret spring has probably rusted.
They do rust sometimes, don't they~
II never heard Of one doing SO. They
always yield easily, and the door rolls
noiselessly aside and leaves an aper.
ture," said Winchester grimly.
I'VE must get it openw cried his wife
tearfully. ''Try some Of the other eyes,
Harry"
"But why try the others, my dear?
1t says the middle one."
There is-there must be a spring.
retorted Mrs. Winchester. "Why should
Nancy have put 1t in her diary If there
was notY'
II give 1t up when you ask me to
explain the vagaries Of the female
mind began Winchester as he VI
ciously jabbed the eyes Of all the gar
goyles in turn without result.
Flora burst into tears.
"Don't cry, my darling" comforted
her husband tenderly. "I'll find out
the truth If I have to chop the con-
founded thing into kindlings!
"I wish understood the meaning Of
1t anyway" said Winchester presently
when his wife had reached degree OF
tranquility where she could nibble q
bonbon appreciatively.
Again the tears flowed. II might
just as well have had another thou.
sand dollarsr walled Flora.
Winchester's elbow knocked a small
package from the table to the floor.
"What is thisT he asked, picking
it up.
can express parcel that came this
afternoon. haven't had time to look
at it."
He ripped of the covers and looked
stupidity at q small leather volume In
his hand.
"The Diary of Nancy Gray! he ex.
claimed A letter fell from the book,
and he opened it eagerly.
"Read itv' commanded Flora impa-
tiently. And he reed as follows:
My Dear Mrs Winchester-Your uncle,
the late Mr.. William Gray. has placed
this little volume In my hands with in
structions to turn 1t over to you after
his death. OF course you are aware thar
your uncle wrote this fantastical little
tale for his own amusement many years
ago, but It was never published. You
are probably In a position to recognize
that your uncle's clever wit enabled him
to take great liberties with your family
history. AS the presert owner OF the
Gargoyle bedstead, this little book will
prove to be Of especial interest to you.
Congratulating you on the possession OF
such q valuable antique, and with KIND
regards, I am. very sincerely yours,
JEPEMIAH CHESLEY.
The long silence was broken at last
by suppressed chuckle from Mr.. Win.
chester.
His wife buried her face in the sofa
pillows. "Brutew she sobbed bitterly.
And Winchester Is still wondering
whom she meant.