nt that a noisy wind, or a hooting owl,
was the sum and substance of all the trouble. But Bill Coombs was a
very different proposition. He was of the hard-headed kind, not to be
easily alarmed by visionary terrors, and yet he was manifestly afraid
to sleep in the house. I was sufficiently acquainted with his type to
comprehend there must be some real cause driving him to retreat to the
negro cabins for rest. He was a rough of the Southwest, illiterate of
course, but a practical fellow, and, without doubt, a gun-fighter. He
had been employed because of these very characteristics, and it would
require surely a very real ghost to drive him away.

I sat there for some time smoking, endeavoring to think it all over
coolly, and listening intently. At first I could distinguish the
rattle of dishes downstairs, as Sallie cleared the table, and, a little
later, heard Mrs. Bernard moving about uneasily in her room across the
hall. But at last these sounds ceased, and the house became still. I
removed a portion of my clothing and lay down on the bed, a certain
uneasiness preventing me from undressing entirely. I was tired, but
with little inclination for sleep. The room was large, the furniture
of old style and well worn, the light of the small hand lamp leaving
much of the spacious apartment in shadow. It was not only imagination
which kept me wakeful, but the dim suspicion engendered in my mind by
what Mrs. Bernard had said below. Could there be any truth in her
questioning of the motives actuating the man who had sent us here? Had
we come--mere pawns in some game of crime--deceived, perhaps betrayed
to arrest? Was Coombs here merely to watch us, and report to Neale and
Vail how we carried out our part of the bargain? The affair certainly
looked altogether different now I was upon the ground, although I could
figure out no possible object those men could have. At least they
could accomplish nothing without my cooperation, and, if I discovered
any evil afoot, I could block them instantly. I was there to save this
property for the rightful heir, and was determined now to see that
Philip Henley received all that was due him. It was after one o'clock
before I fell into a drowsy sleep.

Indeed, it hardly seemed to me that I had entirely lost consciousness,
when I was jerked bolt upright by the sharp report of a firearm. For a
single instant I imagined the shot fired within my room; then I sprang
to the door, and fl