"Bates, if you can give us some coffee-? Let the

room go for the present."

''Yes, sir."

"And Bates-"

He paused and Larry's keen eyes were bent sharply

upon him.

"Mr. Donovan is a friend who will be with me for

some time. We'll fix up his room later in the day"

He limped out, Larry's eyes following him.

"What do you think of that fellow?" I asked.

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Larry's face wore a puzzled look.

"What do you call him,-Bates? He's a plucky fellow."

Larry picked up from the hearth the big candelabrum

with which Bates had defended himself. It

was badly bent and twisted, and Larry grinned.

"The fellow who went out through the front door

probably isn't feeling very well to-day. Your man was

swinging this thing like a windmill."

"I can't understand it," I muttered. "I can't, for

the life of me, see why he should have given battle to

the enemy. They all belong to Pickering, and Bates is

the biggest rascal of the bunch."

"Humph! we'll consider that later. And would you

mind telling me what kind of a tallow foundry this is?

I never saw so many candlesticks in my life. I seem

to taste tallow. I had no letters from you, and I supposed

you were loafing quietly in a grim farm-house,

dying of ennui, and here you are in an establishment

that ought to be the imperial residence of an Eskimo

chief. Possibly you have crude petroleum for soup and

whipped salad-oil for dessert. I declare, a man living

here ought to attain a high candle-power of luminosity.

It's perfectly immense." He stared and laughed. "And

hidden treasure, and night attacks, and young virgins

in the middle distance,-yes, I'd really like to stay a

while."

As we ate breakfast I filled in gaps I had left in my

hurried narrative, with relief that I can not describe filling

my heart as I leaned again upon the sympathy of

an old and trusted friend.

As Bates came and went I marked Larry's scrutiny of

the man. I dismissed him as soon as possible that we

might talk freely.

"Take it up and down and all around, what do you

think of all this?" I asked.

Larry was silent for a moment; he was not given to

careless speech in personal matters.

"There's more to it than frightening you off or getting

your grandfather's money. It's my guess that

there's something in this house that somebody-Pickering

supposedly-is very anxious to find."

"Yes; I begin to think so. He could come in here

legally if it were merely a matter of searching for lost

assets."

"Yes; and whatever it is it must be well hidden. As

I remember, your grandfather died in June. You got

a letter calling you home in October."

"It was sent out blindly, with not one chance in a

hundred that it would ever reach me."




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