money there. The
business alliance between the two men added to the belief that Bailey
knew something of the looting. His unexplained absence from the bank
on Monday lent color to the suspicion against him. The strange thing
seemed to be his surrendering himself on the point of departure. To
me, it seemed the shrewd calculation of a clever rascal. I was not
actively antagonistic to Gertrude's lover, but I meant to be convinced,
one way or the other. I took no one on faith.

That night the Sunnyside ghost began to walk again. Liddy had been
sleeping in Louise's dressing-room on a couch, and the approach of dusk
was a signal for her to barricade the entire suite. Situated as its
was, beyond the circular staircase, nothing but an extremity of
excitement would have made her pass it after dark. I confess myself
that the place seemed to me to have a sinister appearance, but we kept
that wing well lighted, and until the lights went out at midnight it
was really cheerful, if one did not know its history.

On Friday night, then, I had gone to bed, resolved to go at once to
sleep. Thoughts that insisted on obtruding themselves I pushed
resolutely to the back of my mind, and I systematically relaxed every
muscle. I fell asleep soon, and was dreaming that Doctor Walker was
building his new house immediately in front of my windows: I could hear
the thump-thump of the hammers, and then I waked to a knowledge that
somebody was pounding on my door.

I was up at once, and with the sound of my footstep on the floor the
low knocking ceased, to be followed immediately by sibilant whispering
through the keyhole.

"Miss Rachel! Miss Rachel!" somebody was saying, over and over.

"Is that you, Liddy?" I asked, my hand on the knob.

"For the love of mercy, let me in!" she said in a low tone.

She was leaning against the door, for when I opened it, she fell in.
She was greenish-white, and she had a red and black barred flannel
petticoat over her shoulders.

"Listen," she said, standing in the middle of the floor and holding on
to me. "Oh, Miss Rachel, it's the ghost of that dead man hammering to
get in!"

Sure enough, there was a dull thud--thud--thud from some place near.
It was muffled: one rather felt than heard it, and it was impossible to
locate. One moment it seemed to come, three taps and a pause, from the
floor under us: the next, thud--thud--thud--it came apparently from the
wall.

"It's not a ghost," I said d