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"Yes, sir!" said Fred, quite distinctly.
"No, sir! " said Miss Forbes, with equal distinctness. "I'm

not going to be left here alone--with all these trees. I'm
going with you."

"There may be a dog," suggested the young man, "or, I was
thinking if they heard me prowling about, they might take a

shot--just for luck. Why don't you go back to the car with
Fred?"

"Down that long road in the dark?" exclaimed the girl. "Do
you think I have no imagination?"

The man in front, the girl close on his heels, and the boy
with the buckets following, crawled through the broken gate,

and moved cautiously up the gravel driveway.
Within fifty feet of the house the courage of the chauffeur

returned.
"You wait here," he whispered, "and if I wake 'em up, you

shout to 'em that it's all right, that it's only me."
"Your idea being," said the young man, "that they will then

fire at me. Clever lad. Run along."
There was a rustling of the dead weeds, and instantly" target="_blank" title="ad.立即,立刻">instantly the

chauffeur was swallowed in the encompassing shadows.
Miss Forbes leaned toward the young man.

"Do you see a light in that lower story?" she whispered.
"No," said the man. "Where?"

After a pause the girl answered: "I can't see it now, either.
Maybe I didn't see it. It was very faint--just a glow--it

might have been phosphorescence."
"It might," said the man. He gave a shrug of distaste. "The

whole place is certainly old enough and decayed enough."
For a brief space they stood quite still, and at once,

accentuated by their own silence, the noises of the night grew
in number and distinctness. A slight wind had risen and the

boughs of the pines rocked restlessly, making mournful
complaint; and at their feet the needles dropping in a gentle

desultory shower had the sound of rain in springtime. From
every side they were startled by noises they could not place.

Strange movements and rustlings caused them to peer sharply
into the shadows; footsteps, that seemed to approach, and,

then, having marked them, skulk away; branches of bushes that
suddenly swept together, as though closing behind some one in

stealthy retreat. Although they knew that in the deserted
garden they were alone, they felt that from the shadows they

were being spied upon, that the darkness of the place was
peopled by malign presences.

The young man drew a cigar from his case and put it unlit
between his teeth.

"Cheerful, isn't it?" he growled.
"These dead leaves make it damp as a tomb. If I've seen one

ghost, I've seen a dozen. I believe we're standing in the
Carey family's graveyard."

"I thought you were brave," said the girl.
"I am," returned the young man, "very brave. But if you had

the most wonderful girl on earth to take care of in the
grounds of a madhouse at two in the morning, you'd be scared

too."
He was abruptly surprised by Miss Forbes laying her hand

firmly upon his shoulder, and turning him in the direction of
the house. Her face was so near his that he felt the uneven

fluttering of her breath upon his cheek.
"There is a man," she said, standing behind that tree."

By the faint light of the stars he saw, in black silhouette, a
shoulder and head projecting from beyond the trunk of a huge

oak, and then quickly withdrawn. The owner of the head and
shoulder was on the side of the tree nearest to themselves,

his back turned to them, and so deeply was his attention
engaged that he was unconscious of their presence.

"He is watching the house," said the girl. "Why is he doing
that?"

"I think it's Fred," whispered the man. "He's afraid to go
for the water. That's as far as he's gone." He was about to

move forward when from the oak tree there came a low whistle.
The girl and the man stood silent and motionless. But they

knew it was useless; that they had been overheard. A voice
spoke cautiously.

"That you?" it asked.
With the idea only of gaining time, the young man responded

promptly and truthfully. "Yes," he whispered.
"Keep to the right of the house," commanded the voice.

The young man seized Miss Forbes by the wrist and moving to
the right drew her quickly with him. He did not stop until

they had turned the corner of the building, and were once more
hidden by the darkness.

"The plot thickens," he said. "I take it that that fellow is
a keeper, or watchman. He spoke as though it were natural

there should be another man in the grounds, so there's
probably two of them, either to keep Carey in, or to keep

trespassers out. Now, I think I'll go back and tell him that
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water, and

that all they want is to be allowed to get the water, and go."
"Why should a watchman hide behind a tree?" asked the girl.

"And why----"
She ceased abruptly with a sharp cry of fright. "What's

that?" she whispered.
"What's what?" asked the young man startled. "What did you

hear?"
"Over there," stammered the girl. "Something--that--groaned."

"Pretty soon this will get on my nerves," said the man. He
ripped open his greatcoat and reached under it. "I've been

stoned twice, when there were women in the car," he said,
apologetically, "and so now at night I carry a gun." He

shifted the darkened torch to his left hand, and, moving a few
yards, halted to listen. The girl, reluctant to be left

alone, followed slowly. As he stood immovable there came from
the leaves just beyond him the sound of a feeble struggle, and

a strangled groan. The man bent forward and flashed the
torch. He saw stretched rigid on the ground a huge

wolf-hound. Its legs were twisted horribly, the lips drawn
away from the teeth, the eyes glazed in an agony of pain. The

man snapped off the light. "Keep back! he whispered to the
girl. He took her by the arm and ran with her toward the

gate.
"Who was it?" she begged.

"It was a dog," he answered. "I think----"
He did not tell her what he thought.

"I've got to find out what the devil has happened to Fred!" he
said. You go back to the car. Send your brother here on the

run. Tell him there's going to be a rough-house. You're not
afraid to go?"

"No," said the girl.
A shadow blacker than the night rose suddenly before them, and

a voice asked sternly but quietly: "What are you doing here?"
The young man lifted his arm clear of the girl, and shoved her

quickly from him. In his hand she felt the pressure of the
revolver.

"Well," he replied truculently, "and what are you doing here?"
"I am the night watchman," answered the voice. "Who are you?"

It struck Miss Forbes if the watchman knew that one of the
trespassers was a woman he would be at once reassured, and she

broke in quickly:
"We have lost our way," she said pleasantly. "We came

here----"
She found herself staring blindly down a shaft of light. For

an instant the torch held her, and then from her swept over
the young man.

"Drop that gun!" cried the voice. It was no longer the same
voice; it was now savage and snarling. For answer the young

man pressed the torch in his left hand, and, held in the two
circles of light, the men surveyed each other. The newcomer

was one of unusual bulk and height. The collar of his
overcoat hid his mouth, and his derby hat was drawn down over

his forehead, but what they saw showed an intelligent, strong
face, although for the moment it wore a menacing scowl. The

young man dropped his revolver into his pocket.
"My automobile ran dry," he said; "we came in here to get some

water. My chauffeur is back there somewhere with a couple of
buckets. This is Mr. Carey's place, isn't it?

"Take that light out of my eyes! said the watchman.
"Take your light out of my eyes," returned the young man. "You

can see we're not--we don't mean any harm."
The two lights disappeared simultaneously, and then each, as

though worked by the same hand, sprang forth again.
"What did you think I was going to do?" the young man asked.

He laughed and switched off his torch.
But the one the watchman held in his hand still moved from the

face of the girl to that of the young man.
"How'd you know this was the Carey house?" he demanded. "Do

you know Mr. Carey?"
"No, but I know this is his house." For a moment from behind

his mask of light the watchman surveyed them in silence. Then
he spoke quickly:

"I'll take you to him," he said, "if he thinks it's all right,
it's all right."

The girl gave a protesting cry. The young man burst forth
indignantly:

"You will NOT!" he cried. "Don't be an idiot! You talk
like a Tenderloin cop. Do we look like second-story workers?"

"I found you prowling around Mr. Carey's grounds at two in the
morning," said the watchmansharply, "with a gun in your hand.

My job is to protect this place, and I am going to take you
both to Mr. Carey."

Until this moment the young man could see nothing save the
shaft of light and the tiny glowing bulb at its base; now into

the light there protruded a black revolver.
"Keep your hands up, and walk ahead of me to the house,"

commanded the watchman. "The woman will go in front."
The young man did not move. Under his breath he muttered

impotently, and bit at his lower lip.
"See here," he said, "I'll go with you, but you shan't take

this lady in front of that madman. Let her go to her car.
It's only a hundred yards from here; you know perfectly well

she----"
"I know where your car is, all right," said the watchman

steadily, "and I'm not going to let you get away in it till
Mr. Carey's seen you." The revolver motioned forward. Miss

Forbes stepped in front of it and appealed eagerly to the
young man.

"Do what he says," she urged. "It's only his duty. Please!
Indeed, I don't mind." She turned to the watchman. "Which way

do you want us to go?" she asked.
"Keep in the light," he ordered.

The light showed the broad steps leading to the front entrance
of the house, and in its shaft they climbed them, pushed open

the unlocked door, and stood in a small hallway. It led into
a greater hall beyond. By the electric lights still burning

they noted that the interior of the house was as rich and well
cared for as the outside was miserable. With a gesture for

silence the watchman motioned them into a small room on the
right of the hallway. It had the look of an office, and was

apparently the place in which were conducted the affairs of
the estate.

In an open grate was a dying fire; in front of it a flat desk


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