stumbled up the second flight, "but it's suitable to the business we
have in hand, and--"

"What's that?" I exclaimed, as a creaking, rasping sound came from the
hall below.

We stopped and listened, peering into the obscurity beneath.

Nothing but silence. The house might have been a tomb for any sign of
life that showed within it.

"It must have been outside," said Henry. "I thought for a moment
perhaps--" Then he checked himself. "Well, you'll know later," he
concluded, and opened the door of the last room on the right of the
hall.

As we entered, he held the door ajar for a full minute, listening
intently. The obscurity of the hall gave back nothing to eye or ear,
and at last he closed the door softly and touched a match to the gas.

The room was at the rear corner of the building. There were two
windows, one looking to the west, the other to the north and opening on
the narrow alley.

"Not so bad after you get in," said Henry, half as an introduction,
half as an apology.

"It's luxury after six days of railroading," I replied.

"Well, lie down there, and make the most of it, then," he said, "for