The Argosy, August 1914 — page 131: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A SMILING house an involuntary exclamation of surprise escaped him. ‘There was not a stick of furniture in sight. Heth- eridge catching the boy’s exclamation and noticing the look of surprise on his face, explained volubly: “Oh, I’ve just moved in. My old house, where I’ve lived for twenty years, is up the road a bit. Expect to have the missus and the kids over here by the end of the week. Walk right in, my boy, and make yourself at home.” | Roland set down his satchel and took off his hat. Hetheridge made for the rear of the building, and could be heard rummaging about, apparently getting things ready for dinner—no- where was there a sign of a servant or any other form of human being. For a while the boy examined the bare walls of the hall. Growing tired of that, he walked over past the front door to a door at right angles to it which, he judged, led into a front parlor. He turned the knob. The door was locked. | At that moment he heard the foot- steps of Hetheridge approaching. His hand fell from the knob. “Come up and I’ll show you your room!” called Hetheridge. The boy picked up his satchel and, guided by the man, went up a narrow flight of stairs and along a narrow corridor to a room at the front of the house directly over that which he had just found locked. MHetheridge flung open the door. It was a small room, also bare of furniture, except for a cheap iron bed, one chair, and a wash-stand. The bed was made; on the wash-stand stood a basin full of water. By its side was a pitcher and one towel. = ‘“ Everything’s ready, you see,” said Hetheridge, with a return of his bluff geood-fellow manner. “‘ Now you can wash and spruce up, and by the time you've done dinner will be on the table down-stairs. I'll call you when it is.”’ With that he went away. The NEMESIS. 121 orphan, left to himself, began an in- spection of his quarters with a minute- ness which he could scarcely explain to himself. He found a window, in the front of the house, opening on the path by which he had just come. The top of it was only a few inches below the lower edge of the roof, along which ran a gutter. Along the lower edge of the window, and to some distance on either side, ran a ledge about six inches wide. The other three sides of the room were without windows—bare, also, of any sort of decoration, even wall- paper. Pursuing his tour of inspection, the boy found on the inside of the room’s door a heavy bolt; this, for some rea- son as yet not avowed to himself, was a relief. Then, continuing his inves- tigation to the outer side of the door— the side on the narrow corridor along which he had just been piloted — he found another bolt? But, whereas the one on the inside was rusty, this one was black and shiny, as if only recently placed there. Looking at it closely, the boy noted that the paint on the portions of the door adjacent to it had been chipped off, showing the raw wood_ beneath; the: heads of the screws, too, were bright. There was no doubt about it— the bolt on the outside of the door had just been put on. Roland stood a moment, reflective- ly. Then he reentered the little room. As he did so he caught the sound of footsteps in the room beneath—the one which he had found locked. Still impelled by feelings not as yet analyzed, he crouched down and tried to peek through the boards. In a few seconds he found a crack which afforded a circumscribed but clear view of the room below. He caught a glimpse of Hetheridge, a candle in his hand, a can of some- thing in the other. He was pouring some liquid from the can on a mass that lay piled about the room, so high CORMICLOOKS (E@