With a last look around the dismantled room, he closed its door behind him and went out into the winding hall. He hurried up and down its length, poking his head into empty store-rooms and dusty offices, but finding no sign of life. At last a cheerful whistle in the lower regions drew him down a flight of stairs to what appeared to be an underground store-room. Here a bulky, overalled individual, looming large in the semi-darkness, stopped in his labor of pushing about some boxes, and regarded Laurie with surprise. "Are you the watchman?" asked the latter, briskly. "I am, that." "Were you here last night?" "I was." "Was any one else here?" "Divil a wan." "Did you hear any noise during the night?" "Divil a bit." "Were you asleep?" "I was," admitted the watchman, simply. His voice was Hibernian, and rich with tolerant good humor. "I want to make a trade with you." The new-comer held out his silk hat. "Will you give me your hat, or any old hat you've got around the place, for this?" "I will," said the watchman calmly. Though good-humored, he seemed a man of few words. "And who might you be?" he added. "I came in last night with Mr. Shaw, and I spent the night here. When I woke up," added Laurie drily, "I found that my host had moved." The watchman sadly shook his head. "You're a young lad," he said, with friendly sympathy. "'Tis a pity you've got into these habits." Laurie grinned at him. He had discovered that his money, like his watch, was safe in his pockets. Taking out a bill, he showed it to his companion. "Do you like the looks of that?" he inquired. "I do," admitted the watchman, warmly. "Tell me all you know about Shaw, and take it for your trouble." "I will," promptly agreed the other, "but 'tis not much you'll get for your money, for 'tis little enough I know. The man you're talkin' about, I suppose, is the fat fella with eyes you could hang yer hat on, that had the back room on the ground floor." "That's the one." "Then all I know is, he moved in three days ago, and he moved out two hours ago. What he did between-times I don't know. But he paid for the room for a month in advance, so nobody's mournin' his loss." "Didn't he say why he was going, or where?" "Divil a word did he say. He was in a hurry, that lad. He had a gang of three men with him, and they had the place empty in ten minutes. I lent 'em a hand, an' he give me a dollar, and that's the last I saw of him." A sudden thought struck the watchman. "Where was you all the time?" he asked with interest. "In the cellar." The watchman nodded, understandingly. "You're too young for that sort of thing, me boy. Now, I'm no teetotaler meself," he went on argumentatively. "A glass once in a while is all right, if a man knows whin to stop. But--" "How about that hat?" interrupted the restive victim of this homily. "Have you got one handy?" "I have." The watchman disappeared into a shadowy corner and returned with a battered derby.