you until you were half-way up the steps."

"Light boots," Clarke answered, smiling; "I bought them from you. I
don't know that I need hold myself responsible for Benson, but I found
he wasn't in when I rode past his place and it struck me that he might
get into trouble if he got on a jag."

He turned and nodded to Blake.

"So you have come up here! I may see you tomorrow, but if Benson's all
right I'm going home now."

He went into the hotel and soon afterward they heard him leave by
another door. An hour later, when Harding and Blake were in their
room, the keen young American brought his fist down on the bedpost with
vehemence.

"I tell you," he said, "there's something queer about that fellow
Clarke--something even Gardner don't know. I don't like that look
that's behind his eyes, not in 'em; and the less we see of him, I
reckon the better."




CHAPTER VII

THE OCCULT MAN

After breakfast the next morning, Blake and Harding sat on the veranda