Page:Arthur Stringer--The House of Intrigue.djvu/281

Rh I crept up to the door that stood first on the right, with a sigh of weariness as I reached the top of the stairs. Then I quietly opened the door, subdued in some way by the sheer silence of that empty house. I was feeling about the wall for a light-switch when something arrested my attention. I stood there for a full minute, listening.

Then, scarcely without breathing, I crept noiselessly toward the center of the room, where a wide cream and gold bed stood scarcely discernible in the half-light. I stood studying that bed for some time. Then I backed as noiselessly away, and out of the room, softly closing the door behind me.

My Hero-Man was still standing at the foot of the stairs, in an attitude of puzzled expectancy. I went slowly and thoughtfully down to him.

"What is it?" he asked, in a nervous whisper.

"Is there any other room in this house I could sleep in?" I offhandedly inquired.

"Why?" he demanded.

"I don't exactly like that cream and gold room," I told him.

He was silent for a moment.

"Why, yes, of course," he finally said. "The whole house Is empty. You can take any room on that floor."