"There," he said; "nobody will get into that room without my knowing it." "No," I agreed; and then a sudden thought occurred to me. "Parks," I said, "is it true that there is a burglar-alarm on all the windows?" "Yes, sir. It rings a bell in Mr. Vantine's bedroom, and another in mine, and sends in a call to the police." "Is it working?" "Yes, sir; Mr. Vantine himself tested it this evening just before dinner." "Then why didn't it work when I opened those windows just now?" I demanded. Parks laughed. "Because I threw off the switch, sir," he explained, "when I came out to get the shutters. The switch is in a little iron box on the wall just back of the stairs, sir. It's one of my duties to turn it on every night before I go to bed." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Is it on again, now?" "It certainly is, sir. After what you told me, I'd not be likely to forget it." "You'd better have a weapon handy, too," I suggested. "I have a revolver, sir." "That's good. And don't hesitate to use it. I'm going home--I'm dead tired." "Shall I call a cab, sir?" "No, the walk will do me good. I'll see you to-morrow." Parks helped me into my coat and opened the door for me. Glancing back, after a moment, I saw that he was standing on the steps gazing after me. I could understand his reluctance to go back into that death-haunted house; and I found myself breathing deeply with the relief of getting out of it. CHAPTER IX GUESSES AT THE RIDDLE The walk uptown did me good. The rain had ceased, and the air felt clean and fresh as though it had been washed. I took deep breaths of it, and the feeling of fatigue and depression which had weighed upon me gradually vanished. I was in no hurry--went out of my way a little, indeed, to walk out into Madison Square and look back at the towering mass of the Flatiron building, creamy and delicate as carved ivory under the rays of the moon--and it was long past midnight when I finally turned in at the Marathon. Higgins, the janitor, was just closing the outer doors, and he joined me in the elevator a moment later. "There's a gentleman waiting to see you, sir," he said, as the car started upward. "Mr. Godfrey, sir. He came in about ten minutes ago. He said you were expecting him, so I let him into your rooms." "That was right," I said, and reflected again upon Godfrey's exhaustless energy. I found him lolling in an easy chair, and he looked up with a smile at my entrance. "Higgins said you hadn't come in yet," he explained, "so I thought I'd wait a few minutes on the off chance that you mightn't be too tired to talk. If you are, say so, and I'll be moving along." "I'm not too tired," I said, hanging up my coat. "I feel a good deal better than I did an hour ago." "I saw that you were about all in." "How do you keep it up, Godfrey?" I asked, sitting down opposite him. "You don't seem tired at all."