"Of course you have," said my grandfather, "but

solid steel behind wood is safe. I tested it carefully before

I left."

He laughed and clapped his knees, and I laughed with

him.

"But you found the Door of Bewilderment and Pickering's

notes, and that's something."

"No; I didn't even find that. Donovan deserves the

credit. But how did you ever come to build that tunnel,

if you don't mind telling me?"

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He laughed gleefully.

"That was originally a trench for natural-gas pipes.

There was once a large pumping-station on the site of

this house, with a big trunk main running off across

country to supply the towns west of here. The gas was

exhausted, and the pipes were taken up before I began

to build. I should never have thought of that tunnel in

the world if the trench hadn't suggested it. I merely

deepened and widened it a little and plastered it with

cheap cement as far as the chapel, and that little room

there where I put Pickering's notes had once been the

cellar of a house built for the superintendent of the gas

plant. I had never any idea that I should use that passage

as a means of getting into my own house, but Marian

met me at the station, told me that there was trouble

here, and came with me through the chapel into the

cellar, and through the hidden stairway that winds

around the chimney from that room where we keep the

candlesticks."

"But who was the ghost?" I demanded, "if you were

really alive and in Egypt?"

Bates laughed now.

"Oh, I was the ghost! I went through there occasionally

to stimulate your curiosity about the house.

And you nearly caught me once!"

"One thing more, if we're not wearing you out-I'd

like to know whether Sister Theresa owes you any

money."

My grandfather turned upon Pickering with blazing

eyes.

"You scoundrel, you infernal scoundrel, Sister

Theresa never borrowed a cent of me in her life! And

you have made war on that woman-"

His rage choked him.

He told Bates to close the door of the steel chest, and

then turned to me.

"Where are those notes of Pickering's?" he demanded;

and I brought the packet.

"Gentlemen, Mr. Pickering has gone to ugly lengths

in this affair. How many murders have you gentlemen

committed?"

"We were about to begin actual killing when you arrived,"

replied Larry, grinning.

"The sheriff got all his men off the premises more or

less alive, sir," said Bates.

"That is good. It was all a great mistake,-a very

great mistake,"-and my grandfather turned to Pickering.

"Pickering, what a contemptible scoundrel you are!

I lent you that three hundred thousand dollars to buy

securities to give you better standing in your railroad

enterprises, and the last time I saw you, you got me to

release the collateral so you could raise money to buy

more shares. Then, after I died"-he chuckled-"you

thought you'd find and destroy the notes and that would

end the transaction; and if you had been smart enough

to find them you might have had them and welcome.

But as it is, they go to Jack. If he shows any mercy

on you in collecting them he's not the boy I think he is."




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