e to the stranger's identity.

Was there light in the house, fluid in the wires? If so he would be
saved the annoyance of exploring the house by the rather futile aid of
the pocket-lamp, which stood in need of a fresh battery. He searched
for the light-button and pressed it, hopefully. The room, with all its
brilliantly decorated antiquities, older than Rome, older than Greece,
blinded Haggerty for a space.

"Ain't that like these book chaps?" Haggerty murmured. "T' go away
without turning off th' meter!"

The first thing Haggerty did was to scrutinize the desk which stood
near the center of the room. A film of dust lay upon it. Not a mark
anywhere. In fact, a quarter of an hour's examination proved to
Haggerty's mind that nothing in this room had been disturbed except the
poor old mummy. He concluded to leave that gruesome object where it
lay. Nobody but Crawford would know how to put him back in his box,
poor devil. Haggerty wondered if, after a thousand years, some one
would dig him up!

Through all the rooms on this floor he prowled, but found nothing. He
then turned his attention to the flight of stairs which led to the
servants' quarters. Upon the newel-post lay the fresh imprint of a
hand. Haggerty went up the stairs in bounds. There were nine rooms on
this floor, two connecting with baths. In one of these latter rooms he
saw a trunk, opened, its contents carelessly scattered about the floor.
One by one he examined the garments, his heart beating quickly. Not a
particle of dust on them; plenty of finger-prints on the trunk. It had
been opened this very night--by one familiar, either at first-hand or
by instruction. He had come for something in that trunk. What?

From garret to cellar, thirty rooms in all; nothing but the hand-print
on the newel-post and the opened trunk. Haggerty returned to the
museum, turned out all the lights except that on the desk, and sat down
on a rug so as not to disturb the dust on the chairs. The man might
return. It was certain that he, Haggerty, would come back on the
morrow. He was anxious to compare the thumb-print with the one he had
in his collection.

For what had the man come? Keep-sakes? Haggerty dearly wanted to
believe that the intruder was the one man he desired in his net; but he
refused to listen to the insidious whisperings; he must have proof,
positive, absolute, incontestable. If it was Crawford's man Mason, it
was almost too good to be