dancing. In the rear of the house stood sheds and a thick tangle of
trees on which the autumn leaves showed yellow painted fingers and
arrows pointing, and an electric sign, proclaimed to all who passed
that this was Kessler's. In spite of its reputation, the house wore
the aspect of the commonplace. In evidence nothing flaunted,
nothing threatened From a dozen other inns along the Pelham Parkway
and the Boston Post Road it was no way to be distinguished.

As directed In the note, Wharton left the car in the road." For
five minutes stay where yo are," he ordered Nolan; "then go to the
bar and get a drink. Don't talk to any one or they'll think you're
trying to get information. Work around to the back of the house.
Stand where I can see you from the window. I may want you to carry
a message to Mr. Rumson.

On foot Wharton walked up the curved drive-way, and if from the
house his approach was spied upon, there was no evidence. In the
second story the blinds were drawn and on the first floor the
verandas were empty. Nor, not even after he had mounted to the
veranda and stepped inside the house, was there any sign that his
visit was expected. He stood in a hall, and in front of him rose a
broad flight of stairs that he guessed led to the private
supper-rooms. On his left was the restaurant.

Swept and garnished after the revels of the night previous, and as
though resting in preparation for those to come, it an air of
peaceful inactivity. At a table a maitre d'ho'tel was composing the
menu for the evening, against the walls three colored waiters
lounged sleepily, and on a platform at a piano a pale youth with
drugged eyes was with one hand picking an accompaniment. As Wharton