The mayor of Morganton, Mr. Elias Smith, was a tall man, vigorous and enterprising, forty years old or more, and of a health to defy all the doctors of the two Americas. He was a great hunter of bears and panthers, beasts which may still be found in the wild gorges and mighty forests of the Alleghanies. Mr. Smith was himself a rich land-owner, possessing several farms in the neighborhood. Even his most distant tenants received frequent visits from him. Indeed, whenever his official duties did not keep him in his so-called home at Morganton, he was exploring the surrounding country, irresistibly drawn by the instincts of the hunter. I went at once to the house of Mr. Smith. He was expecting me, having been warned by telegram. He received me very frankly, without any formality, his pipe in his mouth, a glass of brandy on the table. A second glass was brought in by a servant, and I had to drink to my host before beginning our interview. “Mr. Ward sent you,” said he to me in a jovial tone. “Good; let us drink to Mr. Ward’s health.” I clinked glasses with him, and drank in honor of the chief of police. “And now,” demanded Elias Smith, “what is worrying him?” At this I made known to the mayor of Morganton the cause and the purpose of my mission in North Carolina. I assured him that my chief had given me full power, and would render me every assistance, financial and otherwise, to solve the riddle and relieve the neighborhood of its anxiety relative to the Great Eyrie. Elias Smith listened to me without uttering a word, but not without several times refilling his glass and mine. While he puffed steadily at his pipe, the close attention which he gave me was beyond question. I saw his cheeks flush at times, and his eyes gleam under their bushy brows. Evidently the chief magistrate of Morganton was uneasy about Great Eyrie, and would be as eager as I to discover the cause of these phenomena. When I had finished my communication, Elias Smith gazed at me for some moments in silence. Then he said, softly, “So at Washington they wish to know what the Great Eyrie hides within its circuit?” “Yes, Mr. Smith.” “And you, also?” “I do.” “So do I, Mr. Strock.” He and I were as one in our curiosity. “You will understand,” added he, knocking the cinders from his pipe, “that as a land-owner, I am much interested in these stories of the Great Eyrie, and as mayor, I wish to protect my constituents.” “A double reason,” I commented, “to stimulate you to discover the cause of these extraordinary occurrences! Without doubt, my dear Mr. Smith, they have appeared to you as inexplicable and as threatening as to your people.”