knocking echoed all over the house, and the door swung slowly
open. It was my knocks which had opened it, however,--there was
no one inside, so far as I could see. I looked into an empty hall,
dusty and neglected. A broad staircase led upstairs, but the only
thing in the hall was a pile of pink hand-bills lying on the
floor. I thumped again with my knuckles on one of the panels of
the door, and called out: "Anybody here?" There was no answer, and
after hesitating a moment I decided to try the rear of the house.

The driveway at the side was in the same neglected condition as
the front path. The only thing about the place which looked at all
new was a sort of wooden stand, built out of boards and packing
boxes. This was decorated with flags and colored bunting, as if
for a band-concert. It stood at one side of the driveway in what
had once been a little garden. The barn and other buildings at the
rear were shabby and ill-kept.

I pounded at a side-door, and at a door in the back, but there was
no answer at either. Then I began to wonder what to do. Evidently
Captain Bannister was not here, but why had he said he was coming
to such a place? What had made him think he would find the
"Hoppergrass" here? Where were the men about whom the boy on the
horse-car had told me?

I strolled to the front of the house again, crossed the road, and
looked down the hill toward the bay. There was a little wharf at
the foot of the hill, and at the end of it was another of the
white cloth signs. It faced out over the water, so I could not
read what it said. Some planks, boards, and shavings lay about, as
if someone had been working there recently. I thought I would go