Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 162, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 July 1920 — The Houses of Whispers [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Houses of Whispers

By William Johnston

Uluriroiiotl# *y Irwin Myers

CHAPTER V—Continued. I wondered which had been his bedToom- It was hardly likely that he tbad occupied the room in which I elepL As I debated the matter I theard someone moving about my room stnd went to investigate. It was Mrs. LBurke, making up my bed. She would know which room my great-uncle had (been accustomed to occupy. As I entered the bedroom for the purpose of cross-questioning her, my ♦first impression—and. philosopers tell •us that the first is most likely to be Che correct one —was of a simple-mind-ed, kindly old Irish woman of the Aitmost honesty. I was certain just by Qooking at her that there wasn’t a crooked hair in her head, even if she thad had the intelligence necessary for crimes beyond the ordinary. “It's Mr. Nelson I'm seeing at last,” whe exclaimed with satisfaction, “t •was wondering when I would be layling eyes on ye." “Yes,” said I,” “I am Mr. Nelson, IMr. Gaston’s great-nephew.” “Sure and I d have knowed ye any•wbere. It’s as like ye are as two peas, (barring the old gentleman's white hairs."

Her statement rather startled me, ifor while I never had regarded myself «s an Adonis, on the other hand I never had supposed I looked anything like old Rufus. . “Was this my great-uncle's bedroom •when he was here?" I asked, trying to cnake my inquiry seem casual. “It was and it wasn’t," Mrs. Burke .replied. “He gets queer notions, the ould gentleman does. In the last few weeks he’s slept in every room in the 'house.” “What made him do that?” “It’s not for me to be saying." PeJvoutly she crossed herself. “Some-

tbaea I do be thinking the house is - ;hennted The old man was all the •time mumbling about —” Rhe hesitated and looked furtively '• "About whispers,” I suggested. Instead of replying to my question she «hot another one at me. “And have ye been hearing them, •oer

I laughed, trying to put a note of merriment into my tones. “I don’t believe In things like that.” The old woman nodded her head largely: —“—- / ' . “It ain’t believing In them things that makes you hear them. Either you hear them or you don't. The old man heard them.” "How do you know?” “Didn’t I hear him asking meself about it? He heard them, many times.” "How about the others —the servants —did they hear them, too?” “They may have that. Niggers Is always hearing things anyhow. It's what the white folk hear that counts.” "How about the other apartments in the house? Do the people in them hear whispers?” “Never that I’ve heard tell of, but how should I know? This is the only place In the house that I work." “Did Mrs. Gaston eves speak to you about it?” “She did and she did not. She never in so many words asked me If I heard.them. Ail she says to me was. •Nora, if ever you see or hear anything strange or unusual here, you’re to let me know at once.’ And I says, ‘Yis, Mrs. Gaston, I will.’” “And have you ever seen or heard anything?" The old woman busied herself with making up the bed for a moment before she answered me. “I'm not saying I’ve seen anything,” she began, "but there’s thiugs I could be telling if I was minded to open my lips." “If you know anything,” I said, "you must tell me. Mr.<>aston put me here to find out what was wrong.” "There’s no doubt there’s wrong here.” “What makes you say that? What have you seen? What do you know?” “It's neither what I've seen nor what I know." She nodded mysteriously. “It's what I’ve been hearing myself.” -- “For heaven’s sake, woman," I cried, losing patience, “what is it you’ve heard ?”

“I've heard-them walking.” she announced with an air of triumph. “You’ve heard who walking?” “The little people, of course. Who else would it be doing it?” “Oh, bosh!” I exclaimed. I was well enough acquainted with the superstitions of the Irish to understand who she meant by “the little people.” It’s I the habit of the old crones from the I Emerald isle to attribute anything | they cannot understand to fairies. “You may laugh.” she retorted indignantly, “but I heard them. I tell ye.” “Where did you hear them, these footsteps?” . “Coming right out of the wall, here in this room, and in the kitchen, beyond.” “It was probably somebody in another apartment 'gou heard.” “It was not. The floors do be deadened like, and it’s nothing at all you can hear.; It was somebody walking soft-like right there in the wall at me back.” “Well,” I announced, “if there is anyth!ng Ilke that going on. lam going to stay here until I hear it. I want to make sure no one can come into the apartment but myself, so I am going to ask you to give me your key I’ll be home here all the morning. so I can let you in when you ring.” “It’s me key you're wanting, is it?” —glte produced it from a pocket of her gown and handed it over, first unknotting it from a corner of her kerchief'where she had tied it for safe keeping. “And indeed if it's meself you’re not trusting with a key after Mrs. Gaston letting me have it for these ten years back, it’s your own bed you can be making. I’ll not be coming near the place again.” In fine indignation she flounced out of the place. To tell the truth I was not sorry that she had announced her decision not to return. While my impression of her was that she was ft simple-minded old woman of uttermost honesty, I was just as well satisfied that no one but myself should have entry to the apartment until I had finished my investigations and had made further progress in solving the mysteries that were so rapidly developing. Left once more to myself, I sat down at my great-uncle's desk and made out a list of questions that must be answered: 1. Where was Rufus Gaston? Had the old gentleman really gone away or was he in hiding in the building?

2. Who had removed the Gaston pearls from the wall safe? It must be someone who knew the combination. 3. Who had written the note I found on the floor of mv bedroom? How and when had it "been placed on the floor there? 4. Who were the persons who were trying to blackmail the family next door? - . 5. How had the anonymous notes

been delivered on the noor of Barbara Bradford’s room? (Evidently the writer was the same as In my case.) 0. Was there anything In the past relations of Mr. Bradford and my great-uncle that would cause my great-uncle to plot against the Bradford family? 7. How were the mysterious sounds heard both by my great-uncle, by Barbara Bradford, and by myself to be accounted for? 8. How were the mysterious footsteps heard by Mrs. Burke to be explained? Were they merely the Imaginings of a superstitious old woman? The relations between Mr. Bradford and Rufus Gaston puzzled 'me. Miss Bradford's recollection of her father’s remark about my great-unde certainly indicated that he held no high opinion of him. My great-uncle's actions throughout had been peculiar. His suddenly sending for me and insisting on my coming here to live, his insistence on leaving his wife’s jewels In my care, and on entrusting me with the combination of the safe, all now took on a sinister aspect. It certainly was peculiar that he had gone off without leaving me any address where he could be reached. Then, too, there was my own'unexpected and unwarranted discharge at my place of business. I was positive In some way It was connected with my having come to this place to live. Had my himself brought it about for the purpose of discrediting me? Was it the work of the blackmailers to get square with me for having accidentally butted in on the meeting they had arranged with Miss Bradford? The scar-faced man! Who was he? I was certain that he was In some way Involved. It might have been he who had caused me to lose my job? Certainly the malevolent glance he had given me in the restaurant that night showed that he would have wrought me harm if he could. The next time I laid eyes on him I was determined to trail him with bulldog tenacity until I ascertained his Identity and where he lived. I felt sure that the trail of the mystery would lead to his door. I decided not to leave the apartment all day. I had laid in a plentiful supply of food the day before so there was no necessity for my going out. There was plenty of work for me to do. I must try to devise some way of examining the safe door and the jewel box that remained for evidence of fingerprints, and I must Inspect the building both from within and without to see If I could learn how the notes were delivered.

From one of the toilet tables I obtained some fine powder and opening the wall safe again I took out the jewel box and carefully dusted It over with the powder. D hoped that the powder would reveal markings of hands on the box, but either I was too Inexperienced or my method was wrong, for I succeeded In obtaining no sort of result, beyond finding out what tpy own fingerprints looked likfe .>n a sheet of paper prepared with some home-made lampblack. After an hour or two of experimentation I gave it up as a bad job, and turned to the study of methods by which the notes might have been delivered. The Gaston apartment was on the sixth floor of the building, which was surrounded by ordinary three and four-story dwelling houses. It must have been someone In the building, if pot in the apartment itself. It would be quite possible for someone on the floor above to have projected the notes through my window and that of Miss Bradford by attaching them to the end of a long stick. I made up my mind to ascertain who occupied the apartments above. The mystery of the whispers did not seem to be of such easy solution. While I had been inclined at first to regard my own experience as a dream, the coincidence of Miss Bradford and my great-uncle having had the same illusion convinced me that It was some claptrap devised by the plotters for preying on the fears of their intended victims.

Eagerly I waited for the coming of evening and from half-past seven on I sat by my window waiting for Barbara's signal. It was nearly nine o'clock before I heard the three taps that had so startled me the evening before. Quickly I thrust my head out of the window and was rewarded by seeing hers appear at the same moment. “We must not talk long,” she warned me. “Someone might see us. you learned anything new?” “Yes,” I whispered. “In my uncle's diary I found several entries about the whispers.” "How strange!” she exclaimed. “Where is Mr. Gaston?” “I don’t know.” “That’s funny.” “It’s more than that. It Is decidedly odd that he left no word where he could be reached.” “I don’t blame him.” she almost sobbed. “I wish we could all get away off somewhere, away from It all.” “Don’t worry. Everything we find out will help discover the plotters. Tell me from what part of your room did the sounds come.” “Always from the same place, up in the corner, near the ceiling.” “I thought so,” I answered. “That's where they came from in my room. That shows it is just some mechanical trick they are using in the hope of terrifying us. Do you know who lives on the floor above?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. Do you suspect them?” “I suspect everybody until this mystery is solved,” I replied almost savagely. “Not ao loud, they may hear you. Have you learned anything elaeF

"No, nothing- I questioned old Mn, Burke, Mrs. Gaston's laundress. She knew nothing, although she insisted that she had often heard footsteps when there was no one In the apartment. Of course it is only her imagination.” “I’m not so sure,” Miss Bradford whispered. ‘Tve heard them, too. They seemed to come right out of the wall.” “Why,” I exclaimed in amazement, “that's just how she described them.” “Often, too, when I get up in the morning I have a strange feeling that there must have been someone in my room while I was asleep.” “How strange!” I muttered, more to myself than to her. “I wonder If It could be anyone walking in their sleep.” “You mean” —she hesitated —“my sister?” “I don't mean anyone,” I hastened to say. “I was only thinking aloud, wondering If it could be a possible explanation. I have heard of Innocent persons doing all sorts of things under hypnotic Influence.” ‘Tve read of that, too,” she said soberly, “I wonder —” She left the sentence unfinished, but I felt that the same thought had flashed into her mind as into mine. Was It possible that the unscrupulous French-

man who had wronged her sister years ago had in some way recently gained an interview with her and had gotten her once more into his power? Could it be that under the spell of another’s Wind Claire Bradford herself had taken away the papers concerning the annulment of her marriage and was placing the notes in the blackmail plot? “Look here.” I said determinedly, “we’ve got to see each other somewhere tomorrow and talk this over. Where can we meet?” “I’m afraid I can’t manage It tomorrow. I’m busy with my mother and sister all day long. Tuesday, perhaps. But we mustn’t talk here longer. Good night.” “Good night,” I called softly but her head had been already withdrawn, so quickly that I hardly knew whether she heard me. As I was about ready for bed I recalled that I had spent most of the money I had In my pockets, so I visited the bookcase where I had secreted my hoard and taking out a twenty-dollar bill, wrapped it about the three one-dollar bills I had left and put the roll in my trousers pocket. The next morning, as I was dressing, I happened to draw forth my money. I gazed at it horror-stricken. I distinctly recalled having wrapped the twenty-dollar bill about the three smaller bills. Now onp of the dollar bills was on the outside. There before me was Indisputable evidence that someone had been in my room while I slept, someone had gone through my pockets and had examined my money. Someone had put the dollar bill on the outside of the roll. Who had done it? How had they got into the room?

Enter Gorman, the detective.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

"Sometimes I Do Be Thinking the House Is Haunted."

I Gazed at It Horror-Stricken.