n for a Christmas feast, and he passed on to the dining-room,
whose appointments spoke for good taste and a degree of prosperity in the
householder.
Cautious flashes of his lamp disclosed on the table a hamper, in which
were packed a silver cup, plate, and bowl which at once awoke the Hopper's
interest. Here indubitably was proof that this was the home of Shaver, now
sleeping sweetly in Humpy's bed, and this was the porridge bowl for which
Shaver's soul had yearned. If Shaver did not belong to the house, he had
at least been a visitor there, and it struck The Hopper as a reasonable
assumption that Shaver had been deposited in the roadster while his lawful
guardians returned to the cottage for the hamper preparatory to an
excursion of some sort. But The Hopper groped in the dark for an
explanation of the calmness with which the householders accepted the loss
of the child. It was not in human nature for the parents of a youngster so
handsome and in every way so delightful as Shaver to permit him to be
stolen from under their very noses without making an outcry. The Hopper
examined the silver pieces and found them engraved with the name borne by
the locket. He crept through a living-room and came to a Christmas
tree--the smallest of Christmas trees. Beside it lay a number of packages
designed clearly for none other than young Roger Livingston Talbot.
Housebreaking is a very different business from the forcible entry of
country post-offices, and The Hopper was nervous. This particular house
seemed utterly deserted. He stole upstairs and found doors open and a
disorder indicative of the occupants' hasty departure. His attention was
arrested by a small room finished in white, with a white enameled bed, and
other furniture to match. A generous litter of toys was the last proof
needed to establish the house as Shaver's true domicile. Indeed, there was
every indication that Shaver was the central figure of this home of whose
charm and atmosphere The Hopper was vaguely sensible. A frieze of dancing
children and watercolor sketches of Shaver's head, dabbed here and there
in the most unlooked-for places, hinted at an artistic household. This
impression was strengthened when The Hopper, bewildered and baffled,
returned to the lower floor and found a studio opening off the living
room. The Hopper had never visited a studio before, and satisfied now that
he was the sole occupant of the house, he passed passed about shooting his
ligh
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