in Ladley's place for a day or two, live as he lived, do what he did,
even think as he thought, if I can. I am going to sleep in his room
to-night, with your permission."

I could not see any reason for objecting, although I thought it silly
and useless. I led the way to the front room, Mr. Holcombe following
with his shoes and suit case. I lighted a lamp, and he stood looking
around him.

"I see you have been here since we left this afternoon," he said.

"Twice," I replied. "First with Mr. Graves, and later--"

The words died on my tongue. Some one had been in the room since my
last visit there.

"He has been here!" I gasped. "I left the room in tolerable order.
Look at it!"

"When were you here last?"

"At seven-thirty, or thereabouts."

"Where were you between seven-thirty and eight-thirty?"

"In the kitchen with Peter." I told him then about the dog, and about
finding him shut in the room.

The wash-stand was pulled out. The sheets of Mr. Ladley's manuscript,
usually an orderly pile, were half on the floor. The bed coverings had