LITMIR.BIZ

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the inside of the bronze cylinder, he reached ahead of her.

      “Yes,” he said, consentingly, “let us see what is in here.”

      In full view of all, he opened the long box, such a box as long stemmed roses might have been packed in, and took from it a voluminous cloak of thin white material, a flimsy, white shawl, and a mask that represented a skull.

      “The paraphernalia of the Shawled Woman,” the detective said, exhibiting the things, “your property, Mr. Stebbins?”

      “Yes, they are,” and the man looked shame-faced, but determined. “I made all my plans, before the folks came up here, to ha’nt the Room with the Tassels. I meant no harm, I vow. I thought they was a silly set of society folks, who believed in spooks, and I thought I’d give ’em what they come for. I bought the mask at a fancy shop in town, and the thin stuff too. The shawl is one my wife used to have. I own up to all my doin’s, because while they was foolish, and maybe mean, they wasn’t criminal. Now, if so be’s somebody saw me go in and out, and used those ghost clo’es, which it seems they must have done, I’ll help all I can to fasten the guilt where it belongs.”

      “I, too,” declared Rudolph Braye. “It certainly looks as if some one had seen Mr. Stebbins enter the house secretly, and watching, saw him leave. Then, this night prowler tried the game himself.”

      “Yes, sir,” replied Stebbins. “Just the same sort of spring, inside and out. Anybody seein’ me go through, either way, could easily work out the secret. But, not knowing of it, nobody’d ever suspect.”

      “Of course not,” agreed Braye. “Now, we have a start, let us get to work on the more serious aspect of the affair. For, while this revelation explains the entrance of some midnight marauder, with intent to frighten us, it doesn’t do much toward lessening the mystery of those two deaths.”

      “You’re sure, Mr. Stebbins,” and Eve turned glittering eyes on him, “that you never ‘haunted’ after that night when you appeared to me! You know a ghost appeared to Vernie after that. Can we believe that was not the work of the same malignant——”

      “Malignant is not the word to apply to Mr. Stebbins,” Pennington Wise interrupted her, “and it is up to us,—to me, to find who took his place as haunter of this house. Also, who it was that removed the body of Vernie Reid, doubtless through the revolving column, and—who kidnapped and tried to drown Zizi.”

      “Those are secondary problems,” said Braye, thoughtfully gazing at the detective. “But they must be solved, too, of course. What I’m more anxious about, however, is to learn how any one could compass the murders,—if murders they were.”

      “Of course they were,” said Hardwick. “Now that I know as much as I do know, I’m sure we’ll learn all. Mr. Wise, I’m of a detective bent, myself, and you may count on me to help you all I can. You needn’t laugh——”

      “My dear Professor Hardwick, I assure you I’ve no thought of laughing, or of belittling the help you offer. I’m truly glad of your assistance and it is my habit to be frank with my clients, so we need have no reservations, on either side. The assurance we have received that an intruder could and did enter the house, gives us new directions in which to look and new theories to pursue. I’m sure you will all agree with me that the body of Miss Reid was carried out through the secret column, and not removed by supernatural means.”

      “Without doubt,” said Rudolph Braye, but Eve Carnforth looked a denial.

      “I can’t agree,” she said, “that the discovery of a secret entrance disproves all possibility of the presence of supernatural agencies. I think no human intruder can be held responsible for all we have been through. How do you account for two deaths occurring at the very moment they were foretold?”

      Her question was evidently addressed to Wise, and he replied, “I think, Miss Carnforth, that those two deaths were murders, cleverly accomplished by human wills, and it is my immediate duty to prove this. Therefore, I am now going to endeavour to recover the missing body of the unfortunate girl who was killed.”

      “What! Vernie’s body!” and Eve gasped.

      “Yes. And not wishing to do anything to which you may not all agree, I announce frankly that I am going to have the lake dragged.”

      “The lake!” cried Wynne Landon, “why, man, it is miles long!”

      “But I think that the same person who tried to drown Zizi is responsible for the disappearance of Miss Reid’s body, and I feel sure that if we look in that same part of the lake we will find what we are after.”

      “Incredible!” exclaimed Landon. “You will only waste your time!”

      Wise looked closely at the face of the speaker, and then turned quickly to observe another face.

      “At any rate, it can do no harm to try,” he said, finally.

      “Not at all,” said Braye; “go ahead. But even the recovery of Vernie’s body, will get us no nearer to her murderer. I wish I had been here at the time of those deaths. While I cannot feel I should have been of any help, I do think I could have noticed something or formed some opinion or conclusion from the circumstances.”

      “No, Rudolph,” said the Professor. “There was nothing to be seen or deduced from anything that happened at that time. I was nearest to Mr. Bruce, Miss Carnforth was nearest to Vernie. Neither of us saw anything suspicious or of unexplainable intent.”

      “And yet Mr. Bruce was poisoned,” said Wise, glancing from one face to another. “And I feel positive Miss Reid was also poisoned. She must have been. What else could have killed her, like that?”

      “True enough,” and Braye nodded his head. “But do you think an examination of her body, after all this time, could prove that?”

      “Whether it could or not,” said Wise, “we want to recover the body if possible. My theory is that it must have been thrown in the lake. If it was taken away through the revolving column, what else could have been done with it? To bury it would have been to risk discovery. And Zizi’s experience——”

      “Are you sure, Mr. Wise, that Zizi’s experience was truthfully related? May she not have been hysterically nervous, and imagined the whole thing? I’ve heard of such cases.”

      “Who put you up to that idea, Miss Carnforth?” said Wise, very quietly, and Eve flushed and turned aside, remaining silent.

      Pennington Wise’s theory proved the true one.

      The men employed to drag the lake at Black Aspens succeeded in finding the body of Vernie Reid. A bag of bricks had been tied to the ankles, in the same manner as described by Zizi, and the little form had been sunk in almost the same place that Zizi had been flung into the water.

      Reverent hands carried the body to the house, and later it was examined by a skilled physician from New York City.

      He reported that death had ensued upon the girl’s arm being scratched with some sharp implement, which had been previously dipped in a powerful poison.

      As this was the same physician who had passed the final judgment on the cause of Mr. Bruce’s death, his report was listened to with confidence and belief.

      “You must know,” he said, to the awed group, “that about last March, a plot was formed against some high officials in England. These diabolical plans included the use of extremely poisonous drugs. By a most culpable oversight the names and descriptions of these poisons crept into the public press, and since then, several attempts at their use have been made, mostly, I am glad to say, without result.

      “But, it is clear to me, that the murderer of these two people, Mr. Bruce, and the child, Vernie Reid, used the poisons I have told you of.”

      “I read about them,” said Pennington Wise. “They included a rare drug only to be obtained from South America.”

      “That

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