the first seven days of our stay at Chatterton Place.

Seemingly nothing was to come of the Rhamda's warning.

On the other hand we succeeded, during that week, in working a
complete transformation of the old house. It became one of the
brightest spots in San Francisco. It cost a good deal of money,
all told, but I could well afford it. I possessed the hundred
thousand with which, I had promised myself and Harry, I should
solve the Blind Spot. That was what the money was for.

On the seventh day after the night of Harry's going, our household
was increased to three members. For it was then that Jerome
returned from Nevada, whence he had gone two weeks before on a
case.

"Not at all surprised," he commented, when I told him of Harry's
disappearance. "Sorry I wasn't here. That crook, Rhamda Avec, in
at the end?"

He gnawed stolidly at his cigar as I told him the story. Then,
after briefly approving what I had done to brighten the house, he
announced:

"Tell you what. I've got a little money out of that Nevada case;
I'm going to take another vacation and see this thing through."

We shook hands on this, and he moved right into his old room. I
felt, in fact, mighty glad to have Jerome with us. Although he
lacked a regular academic training, he was fifteen years my