first time, he came out of himself, abandoned himself to feeling. His
close-cropped head swayed from side to side; his staring, wildcat eyes
half closed----

He slammed shut the piano and arose, more drily precise than ever.

"I imagine all that is rather beyond your apperceptions," he remarked,
"and that you are ready for your bed. Here is a short document I would
have you take to your room for perusal. Good-night."

He tendered me a small, folded paper which I thrust into the breast
pocket of my shirt along with the note handed me earlier in the evening
by the girl. Thus dismissed I was only too delighted to repair to my
bedroom.

There I first carefully drew together the curtains; then examined the
first of the papers I drew from my pocket. It proved to be the one from
the girl, and read as follows:

I am here against my will. I am not this man's daughter. For God's
sake if you can help me, do so. But be careful for he is a
dangerous man. My room is the last one on the left wing of the
court. I am constantly guarded. I do not know what you can do. The
case is hopeless. I cannot write more. I am watched.

I unfolded the paper Hooper himself had given me. It was similar in
appearance to the other, and read:

I am held a prisoner. This man Hooper is not my father but he is
vindictive and cruel and dangerous. Beware for yourself. I live in