se the door was not without its humor;
but Dan now saw, beyond the German's broad shoulders, a figure lurking
within, faintly discernible from the electric lamps in a bronze sconce
on the wall.

The reporter and the caretaker were making no progress in their colloquy
and Dan was trying to catch a glimpse of the other man, who leaned
against the wall quite indifferent to the struggle for the door. Dan
supposed him to be another servant, and he had abandoned hope of
learning anything of Thatcher, when a drawling voice called out:--

"Open the door, Hans, and let the gentleman in: I'll attend to him."

Dan found himself face to face with a young man of about his own age, a
slender young fellow, clad in blue overalls and flannel shirt. He
lounged forward with an air of languor that puzzled the reporter. His
dress was not wholly conclusive as to his position in the silent house;
the overalls still showed their pristine folds, the shirt was of good
quality and well-cut. The ends of a narrow red-silk four-in-hand swung
free. He was clean-shaven save for an absurd little mustache so fair as
to be almost indistinguishable. His blond hair was brushed back unparted
from his forehead. Another swift survey of the slight figure disclosed a
pair of patent-leather pumps. His socks, revealed at the ankles, were
scarlet. Dan was unfamiliar with the menage of such establishments as
this, and he wondered whether this might not be an upper servant of a
new species peculiar to homes of wealth. He leaned on his stick, hat in
hand, and the big blue eyes of the young man rested upon him with
disconcerting gravity. A door slammed at the rear upon the retreating
German, whom this superior functionary had dispatched about his
business. At a moment when the silence became oppressive the young man
straightened himself slightly and spoke in a low voice, and with
amusement showing clearly in his eyes and about his lips,--

"You're a reporter."

"Yes; I'm from the 'Courier.' I'm looking for Mr. Thatcher."

"Suppose, suppose--if you're not in a great hurry, you come with me."

The pumps, with the scarlet socks showing below the overalls, turned at
the end of the broad hall and began ascending the stairs. The young
man's manner was perfectly assured. He had not taken his hands from his
pockets, and he carried himself with an ease and composure that set
Dan's conjectures at naught. In the absence of the family, a servant
might thus conduct himself;