flames obviously had nothing to do with it!"

Borkins's wrinkled, parchment-like cheeks went a dull, unhealthy red. He
opened his mouth to speak and then drew back again. Merriton gave him a
keen glance.

"Of course, how foolish of me. As you say, sir, impossible!" he stammered
out, bowing backward toward the door. "I'll be getting back to my bed
again, and leave you to finish your rest undisturbed. I'm sorry to 'ave
troubled you, I'm sure, sir, only I was afraid something 'ad 'appened."

"That's all right. Good-night," returned Merriton curtly, and turned the
key in the lock as the door closed. He stood for a moment thinking, his
eyes upon the winking, flickering points of light that seemed dimmer in
the fast growing light. "Now why did he make that bloomer about dates, I
wonder? Uncle's been gone five years--and Borkins knew it. He was here at
the time, and yet why did he suggest that old wives' tale as a possible
solution of the disappearance? Borkins, my lad, there's more behind those
watery blue eyes of yours than men may read. Hmm! ... Now I wonder why
the deuce he lied to me?"




CHAPTER III

SUNSHINE AND SHADOW


When Merriton shaved himself next morning he laughed at the reflection