Page:Weird Tales volume 11 number 02.pdf/9

152 charging over a woodpile, which didn't inspire me to investigate before dawn.

"Maybe he was right about that table. Someone's trying to steal it

And that settled it: if I let anyone get away with Yvonne's precious table, life with her would be unbearable for years to come.

"Bunk!" I protested; and then piled out and dug a service .45 out of the dresser.

Goole's whines didn't add to my peace of mind.

But I slunk down the hall, by no means comforted by that crashing and clattering in the drawing-room, accented by the rattle of andirons and the tinkle of shattering glass. I hugged the wall, creeping through the darkness toward the riot. At the entrance of the drawing-room

"Stick 'em up, and be quick about it!" I growled as savagely as my nerves permitted, and snapped on the light. No one stuck 'em up. No one was there. The ensuing silence was all the more awful for having come out of such a terrific din.

I still don’t know whether my relief exceeded my wonder: relief at not having to shoot it out against Lord knows what odds; and wonder at the dead, heavy silence that overwhelmed that fearful clattering and thumping the instant I snapped on the lights.

Goole whined dolorously at the farther end of the hall.

The furniture was a sight: chairs upset, the what-not thrown on the sofa with two of its legs broken, the fire irons scattered about on the hearth; and in one comer of the room, some distance from where we had placed it, was the newly purchased table. It seemed that someone had given it a terrific push which had sent it skating across the polished floor only to halt when a small Kurdish rug which lay in its path had become entangled with those fierce claws and brought it to a stop.

I shivered as I regarded that long, narrow, faintly banded and slightly convex top, and those out-curved legs and predatory claws glistening silkily under the drawing-room lights. It reminded me of some beast of prey poised to spring. And then I returned to tell Yvonne that all was clear as far as I could determine.

Yvonne was incredulous, and simply couldn’t believe that the creators of the disturbance had vanished so mysteriously; but a search of the house convinced her. And then she followed me on my return to the drawing-room to view the battlefield. Still not entirely convinced of the departure of the intruders, she sought to take Goole with us. But Goole wisely took cover beneath our bed, all the while alternating snarls with terrified whines.

And then Annie, awakened by the height of the disturbance, finally ventured out of her room, joining us as we went to take another look at the upset drawing-room. She was entirely in favor of leaving the house and spending the rest of the night at a hotel.

"Don't be stupid," I chided. "I've searched the entire house and tried every door. There's not a sign of anyone's having entered or left." And, clutching at any opportunity to laugh it off, I continued, blaming the tumult on Yvonne's Angora cat: "Look! The window is slightly open. Probably Miggles was entertaining a few playmates, and escaped"

"Now I'll tell one," retorted Annie. "Miggles would of course have moved that heavy table and wrapped a rug about its legs."

That should have finished me, but I came up for more, mentioning the heavy chains that had shackled the table to the floor of the furniture store.