g words:

"If you can come, tear this card in halves and return the right half to
him."

I examined the card carefully. The words were undoubtedly in my uncle's
handwriting. The back of the card was covered with strange characters in
red ink. I tore the card as directed and handed him the right half.

He held it up to the light and examined it carefully, then put it away
in a pocket of his waistcoat. The look of pain returned to his face,
and he coughed feebly as if suffering from a severe cold. The hour being
late I intimated by pantomime that I desired him to occupy my bed. He
understood me readily enough and began feebly to remove his clothing,
while I prepared a sofa for myself. He was soon sound asleep, but I lay
awake long after the light was extinguished. He was evidently quite
ill, and I determined to go for a physician at the first appearance of
daylight. As soon as possible I would go with him to my uncle. There
were no ties to detain me, and it was clearly my duty to do so. Perhaps
my uncle was in some great peril. If so, I might be of service to him.

When I arose in the morning my strange lodger seemed to be sleeping
quietly. His face looked pale and ghastly in the light of day. I stepped
close to his bed and, laying my hand upon his brow, was horrified
to discover that he was dead. What was I to do? I sat down to think,
trembling with fright. I must call in a policeman and tell him all I
knew about my strange visitor. No, not all; I must not tell him about
the letter, thought I. My uncle might not wish it to be published to the
world. I ran out upon the street and told the first officer I met how
the old man had rapped at my door during the storm; how I had given him
my bed out of pity, and how I had discovered on awaking in the morning
that he was dead.

That day the body was taken to the morgue. The sum of L100 were found in
his pockets, a part of which gave him a decent burial. But while he had
gone to his long rest, he had sown in my mind the seed of unrest. I went
about my work clinging to the thread of a mystery half told. Whither
would it lead me?

Strange as that messenger had seemed, he was certainly a good man to
carry secrets.

CHAPTER II

The multitude of legs, engaged by the pair in the service of Valentine,
King & Co., were distinguished from each other by a bit of house slang.
I was known as "last legs" among my companions for some time after
my initiation to the warehouse. A