Omaha daily bee., 1918-11-21
The Abandoned Room
By Wadsworth Camp.

How we jump at conclusions
Pm simply telling you not to bother
me with questions. I'm telling you
to go straight to the Cedars VIII e
you'll stay. Understand? You'll
stay there until you're wantcd-Un-
til you're wanted
The merciless repetition settled
it for Bobby. He knew it would be
dangerous to talk or argue. More
over, he craved an opportunity to
think, to probe farther into the
black pit. He turned and walked
away. When he reached the last
houses he glanced back. The de-
tective remained in the middle OF
the road. staring after him with that
straight and satisfied smile.
Bobby walked on, his shaking
hands tightly clenched, muttering
to himself:
| I've got to remember. Good God
I've got to rememberN It's the only
way | can ever know he's not right
that I'm not murderer"
CHAPTER Nv.
The Case Against Bobby.
Bobby hurried down the road in
the direction of the Cedars. Al
ways he tried desperately to recall
what had occurred during those
black hours last night and this
morning before he had awakened
in the empty house near his grand
fathers home. All that remained
were his sensation of travel in a
swift vehicle, his impression of
standing in the forest near the
Cedars, his glimpse of the masked
figure which he had called his con-
science, The echo in his brain Of a
dream-like voice saying: Take off
your shoes and carry them in your
hand. Always do that. It's the
only safe way"
These facts, then, alone were
clear to him: He had wandered,
unconscious, in the neighborhood.
His grandfather had been strangely
murdered. The detective who had
met him in the village practically
accused him of the murder. And e
couldn't remember.
He turned back to his last clear
recollections. When he had expe-
rienced his first symptoms of slip
ping consciousness he had been in
the cafe in New York with Carlos
Paroles, Maria, the dancer, and a
strange man whom Maria had
brought TO the table. Through
them he might, to an extent. trace
his movements, unless they had put
him in a cab, thinking he would
catch the train. of which he had
talked, for the Cedars.
Already the forest crowded the
narrow. curving road. The Black
burn place was in the midst of an
arid thicket of stunted pines, oaks,
and cedars. Old Blackburn had
never done anything to improve the
estate or its surroundings. Steadily
during his lifetime it had grown
more gloomy, less habitable.
With the silent forest thick about
him Bobby realized that he was no
longer alone, A cracking twig or
loose stone struck by foot might
have warned him. He went slower,
glancing restlessly over his
shoulder He saw no one, but that
idea of stealthy pursuit persisted.
Undoubtedly it was the detective,
Howells, who followed him, hoping,
perhaps, that he would make some
m ID effort at escape.
That" he muttered, "is probably
the reason he didn't arrest me at
the station"
Bobby, however, had no thought
of escape. He was impatient to
reach the Cedars where he might
learn all that Novels hadn't told
him about his grandfather's death.
A high wooden fence struggled
through the forest. The driveway
swung from the road drought a
broad gateway. The gate stood
open. Bobby remembered that it
had been old Blackburn's habit to
keep it closed. He entered and hur-
ried among the trees to the edge of
the lawn in the center of which the
house stood.
Feeling as guilty as the detective
thought him, he paused there and
examined the house for some sign
OF life. At first it seemed as dead