“Never heard the name! Why, he’s in your bedroom at this moment. Walked about very much as if he were at home. Came strolling in with his old confounded jaunty air. I haven’t seen him for nearly three years, but he hasn’t altered a bit. You must have left the outer door ajar, or else he’s kept a key. That would be just one of Orion’s mean dodges. He walked about with his hands in his trousers’ pockets, just as usual. I didn’t speak; we had a row once. There was a bill; he wouldn’t pay his share. And one night when I was a bit on I broke the glass of the sideboard--threw a tumbler at it. He couldn’t stand that. “Yet, why didn’t I speak? What made me keep so quiet? Why didn’t I ask him what the devil he meant by prying about another man’s rooms? “He went and tinkered with the ornaments, scowled at the dust, picked up a match from the carpet--I could have sworn he picked it up, but it’s there still, just near your foot--and then went into the bedroom. He’s in there still. Confound it!” starting to his feet; “what was I doing to let him go in like that?” Drummond was looking very queer. “Orion,” he said quietly, “has been dead six months. He murdered his aunt and then jumped out of the window to evade the hangman. If you hadn’t been abroad you would have heard of it. We’ll have a look round the bedroom, if you like.” Of course he wasn’t there. That is our ghost story. Several fellows have seen him since--so they say. Dick Simpson came after Drummond. He said he saw Orion lots of times, and didn’t take the least notice. Rather resented sharing his rooms with another man who didn’t pay a penny rent, and who hadn’t the tact to make himself scarce when anybody dropped in--but that was all. Poor Dick wasn’t nervous or imaginative. Orion used to come in, shake his head at the dust, at torn leather paper on the walls and mangy ball fringe at the mantelshelf, then go quietly through into the bedroom. Dick told me the other day that he had just smashed the last of the rose-colored gas globes. He had the bits in a bag and was going to match it in the City. If he didn’t, Orion would be bound to look in to-night; he was beginning to be a bit of a bore.