"Good morning, Jack," he said; and his gaze swept

the room.

"God help us!"

It was Morgan, I think, who screamed these words as

he bolted for the broken door, but Stoddard caught and

held him.

"Thank God, you're here, sir!" boomed forth in Bates'

sepulchral voice.

It seemed to me that I saw all that happened with a

weird, unnatural distinctness, as one sees, before a

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storm, vivid outlines of far headlands that the usual

light of day scarce discloses.

I was myself dazed and spellbound; but I do not like

to think, even now, of the effect of my grandfather's

appearance on Arthur Pickering; of the shock that

seemed verily to break him in two, so that he staggered,

then collapsed, his head falling as though to strike his

knees. Larry caught him by the collar and dragged him

to a seat, where he huddled, his twitching hands at his

throat.

"Gentlemen," said my grandfather, "you seem to have

been enjoying yourselves. Who is this person?"

He pointed with his stick to the sheriff, who was endeavoring

to crawl out from under the mass of broken

crystals.

"That, sir, is the sheriff," answered Bates.

"A very disorderly man, I must say. Jack, what

have you been doing to cause the sheriff so much inconvenience?

Didn't you know that that chandelier was

likely to kill him? That thing cost a thousand dollars,

gentlemen. You are expensive visitors. Ah, Morgan,-

and Ferguson, too! Well, well! I thought better of both

of you. Good morning, Stoddard! A little work for

the Church militant! And this gentleman?"-he indicated

Larry, who was, for once in his life, without anything

to say.

"Mr. Donovan,-a friend of the house," explained

Bates.

"Pleased, I'm sure," said the old gentleman. "Glad

the house had a friend. It seems to have had enemies

enough," he added dolefully; and he eyed the wreck of

the room ruefully. The good humor in his face reassured

me; but still I stood in tongue-tied wonder, staring

at him.

"And Pickering!" John Marshall Glenarm's voice

broke with a quiet mirth that I remembered as the preface

usually of something unpleasant. "Well, Arthur,

I'm glad to find you on guard, defending the interests

of my estate. At the risk of your life, too! Bates!"

"Yes, Mr. Glenarm."

"You ought to have called me earlier. I really prized

that chandelier immensely. And this furniture wasn't

so bad!"

His tone changed abruptly. He pointed to the

sheriff's deputies one after the other with his stick.

There was, I remembered, always something insinuating,

disagreeable and final about my grandfather's staff.

"Clear out!" he commanded. "Bates, see these fellows

through the wall. Mr. Sheriff, if I were you I'd

be very careful, indeed, what I said of this affair. I'm

a dead man come to life again, and I know a great deal

that I didn't know before I died. Nothing, gentlemen,

fits a man for life like a temporary absence from this

cheerful and pleasant world. I recommend you to try

it."




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