Larry refused to share my quarters and chose a room

for himself, which Bates fitted, up out of the house

stores. I did not know what Bates might surmise about

Larry, but he accepted my friend in good part, as a

guest who would remain indefinitely. He seemed to interest

Larry, whose eyes followed the man inquiringly.

When we went into Bates' room on our tour of the

house, Larry scanned the books on a little shelf with

something more than a casual eye. There were exactly

four volumes,-Shakespeare's Comedies, The Faerie

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Queen, Sterne's Sentimental Journey and Yeats' Land

of Heart's Desire.

"A queer customer, Larry. Nobody but my grandfather

could ever have discovered him-he found him

up in Vermont."

"I suppose his being a bloomin' Yankee naturally accounts

for this," remarked Larry, taking from under the

pillow of the narrow iron bed a copy of the Dublin

Freeman's Journal.

"It is a little odd," I said. "But if you found a Yiddish

newspaper or an Egyptian papyrus under his pillow

I should not be surprised."

"Nor I," said Larry. "I'll wager that not another

shelf in this part of the world contains exactly that collection

of books, and nothing else. You will notice that

there was once a book-plate in each of these volumes and

that it's been scratched out with care."

On a small table were pen and ink and a curious

much-worn portfolio.

"He always gets the mail first, doesn't he?" asked

Larry.

"Yes, I believe he does."

"I thought so; and I'll swear he never got a letter

from Vermont in his life."

When we went down Bates was limping about the

library, endeavoring to restore order.

"Bates," I said to him, "you are a very curious person.

I have had a thousand and one opinions about you

since I came here, and I still don't make you out."

He turned from the shelves, a defaced volume in his

hands.

"Yes, sir. It was a good deal that way with your lamented

grandfather. He always said I puzzled him."

Larry, safe behind the fellow's back, made no attempt

to conceal a smile.

"I want to thank you for your heroic efforts to protect

the house last night. You acted nobly, and I must

confess, Bates, that I didn't think it was in you. You've

got the right stuff in you; I'm only sorry that there are

black pages in your record that I can't reconcile with

your manly conduct of last night. But we've got to

come to an understanding."

"Yes, sir."

"The most outrageous attacks have been made on me

since I came here. You know what I mean well enough.

Mr. Glenarm never intended that I should sit down in

his house and be killed or robbed. He was the gentlest

being that ever lived, and I'm going to fight for his

memory and to protect his property from the scoundrels

who have plotted against me. I hope you follow me."




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