cover some
fault in his own front door--in the stained glass, or something of that
sort--and have it taken off bodily and sent away to be remodeled; while
a temporary door should be put in its place. The old gentleman listened
amazed, and thought it all a farce; but then the word of Jason B.
Grampus had gone out, and he must keep his word. "All right," he said.

So the front door was sent down town and another one put in its place,
and in that front door down town Simpson and Hastings established and
firmly secured the marvelous electric lock and keyhole. Then the door
was sent back and put in its place. The same day Simpson called at the
office of Mr. Grampus and handed him a key, the ring of which was big
enough to hold at least two fingers. Mr. Grampus grinned sardonically
over this continuation of the jest.

"That's a big ring," he said.

"I am confident you'll not find it any too large," was Simpson's
respectful answer.

The old man grunted. "Will it unlock the door, and how? That is all I
want to know."

"It will," said Simpson; and so they parted.

That evening Mr. Grampus spent a late evening at the club, and went home
in apprehension. As he neared his residence the apprehension grew. He
was wobbly, and he knew it. He ascended the steps with some difficulty,
and began fumbling for his latch-key. He had forgotten all about the
fact that he had a new one. The remembrance came to him only when he
thrust his hand into his pocket, felt the huge key, and drew it forth.
That instant he felt himself leaning forward. Then something happened.
He was literally "yanked" toward that sunken keyhole. His hat smashed
against the door (fortunately it was a soft one), and he found himself a
minute later leaning against the entrance to his own house, grasping
the handle of a latch-key which was in place and which would afford him
admission without the slightest sound.

Never was a man who could walk in such condition, who, once inside a
door, could not conduct himself with the utmost quietness. Grampus was
no exception to the rule. He removed the key with a tug, closed the door
softly and stepped into the drawing-room, where for three hours he
slept, as sleeps a babe, upon the sofa. It has already been told that
only three hours were required to enable Mr. Grampus to recover from
three hours' indulgence at the club. He awoke refreshed and clear-headed
as a man may be. He straightened out his hat, opened the front door
qui