at the end of each hour
they began to strike, singly and in pairs. The brisk strokes of the
nervous little modern clock mingled with the solemn sonorous beat of
an old New England timepiece whose wooden works creaked and labored
complainingly. Elaborate Swiss chimes pealed from others; through the
darkness, a persistent cuckoo could be heard throwing open a small
shutter and stridently announcing his version of the time.

It was some time after midnight that Pendleton began to yawn. Then
Ashton-Kirk said:

"Open some of those blankets, Pen, and lie down. There is no need of
two of us watching to-night; I scarcely expect anything to happen."

Pendleton did not expect anything, either, but he said:

"All right, I will, if you'll wake me in a few hours and let me take a
turn at it."

Ashton-Kirk agreed. Pendleton stretched himself upon the sofa, and
soon his deep breathing told that he was asleep. As the night drew on,
the solitary watcher grew chilled in the unheated rooms and huddled
himself into another blanket; but he sat near the door leading to the
hall, which was slightly ajar; and though his eyes closed sometimes in
weariness, he never lost a sound in the street or a tick of one of the
clocks. Through the entire night he watched and waited almost without
moving; it was not until the dawn of a gray, dirty day began to
somewhat lighten the room that he aroused Pendleton. The latter
expostulated sleepily when he noted the time; but with scarcely a word
the investigator took his place upon the sofa and dropped off to
sleep.

About nine o'clock he awoke and found his friend arranging their
breakfast upon a small table.

"I say, Kirk," said Pendleton, admiringly, "you did this thing rather
thoroughly. There's quite a tasty little snack here; and the thermos
bottles have kept the coffee steaming."

At the water tap in the rear the investigator bathed his hands and
face; then he sat down with his friend and did complete justice to the
breakfast. Afterwards, with their cigars going nicely and a feeling of
comfort stealing over them in spite of the rather uncomfortable night,
Pendleton said:

"You promised the other night to tell me what made you think that the
murderers had failed to secure the thing they sought. The words that
the promise was couched in made me think that you had also something
to show me, and as we could not light up last night, I've waited
patiently until to-day. Now you must ease my curiosi