My taking the detective out to Sunnyside raised an unexpected storm of

protest from Gertrude and Halsey. I was not prepared for it, and I

scarcely knew how to account for it. To me Mr. Jamieson was far less

formidable under my eyes where I knew what he was doing, than he was of

in the city, twisting circumstances and motives to suit himself and

learning what he wished to know, about events at Sunnyside, in some

occult way. I was glad enough to have him there, when excitements

began to come thick and fast.

A new element was about to enter into affairs: Monday, or Tuesday at

the latest, would find Doctor Walker back in his green and white house

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in the village, and Louise's attitude to him in the immediate future

would signify Halsey's happiness or wretchedness, as it might turn out.

Then, too, the return of her mother would mean, of course, that she

would have to leave us, and I had become greatly attached to her.

From the day Mr. Jamieson came to Sunnyside there was a subtle change

in Gertrude's manner to me. It was elusive, difficult to analyze, but

it was there. She was no longer frank with me, although I think her

affection never wavered. At the time I laid the change to the fact

that I had forbidden all communication with John Bailey, and had

refused to acknowledge any engagement between the two. Gertrude spent

much of her time wandering through the grounds, or taking long

cross-country walks. Halsey played golf at the Country Club day after

day, and after Louise left, as she did the following week, Mr. Jamieson

and I were much together. He played a fair game of cribbage, but he

cheated at solitaire.

The night the detective arrived, Saturday, I had a talk with him.

I told him of the experience Louise Armstrong had had the night before,

on the circular staircase, and about the man who had so frightened

Rosie on the drive. I saw that he thought the information was

important, and to my suggestion that we put an additional lock on the

east wing door he opposed a strong negative.

"I think it probable," he said, "that our visitor will be back again,

and the thing to do is to leave things exactly as they are, to avoid

rousing suspicion. Then I can watch for at least a part of each night

and probably Mr. Innes will help us out. I would say as little to

Thomas as possible. The old man knows more than he is willing to

admit."

I suggested that Alex, the gardener, would probably be willing to help,

and Mr. Jamieson undertook to make the arrangement. For one night,

however, Mr. Jamieson preferred to watch alone. Apparently nothing

occurred. The detective sat in absolute darkness on the lower step of

the stairs, dozing, he said afterwards, now and then. Nothing could

pass him in either direction, and the door in the morning remained as

securely fastened as it had been the night before. And yet one of the

most inexplicable occurrences of the whole affair took place that very

night.




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