"I didn't need to, sir. Those yarns of the Shawled Woman, have been told and retold so many years now, they've grown way beyond their first facts, if there ever was any truth to 'em. This here column, only one of 'em revolves,--has always been kept secret, but when the little witch child made me see it was my duty to tell of it, tell of it I did. Now, sir, go ahead and find who committed them dastardly murders and I'll consider I did right to break my oath of secrecy." "No one will blame you for it," said Professor Hardwick, who was still experimenting with the revolving column. "This is a marvellous piece of workmanship, Landon. I never saw such before." Pennington Wise was covertly watching all the faces as the various ones peered into the opening left when the column was turned. He stood on guard, too, and when Eve curiously bent down to open a long box, which stood up on end, against the inside of the bronze cylinder, he reached ahead of her. "Yes," he said, consentingly, "let us see what is in here." In full view of all, he opened the long box, such a box as long stemmed roses might have been packed in, and took from it a voluminous cloak of thin white material, a flimsy, white shawl, and a mask that represented a skull. "The paraphernalia of the Shawled Woman," the detective said, exhibiting the things, "your property, Mr. Stebbins?" "Yes, they are," and the man looked shame-faced, but determined. "I made all my plans, before the folks came up here, to ha'nt the Room with the Tassels. I meant no harm, I vow. I thought they was a silly set of society folks, who believed in spooks, and I thought I'd give 'em what they come for. I bought the mask at a fancy shop in town, and the thin stuff too. The shawl is one my wife used to have. I own up to all my doin's, because while they was foolish, and maybe mean, they wasn't criminal. Now, if so be's somebody saw me go in and out, and used those ghost clo'es, which it seems they must have done, I'll help all I can to fasten the guilt where it belongs." "I, too," declared Rudolph Braye. "It certainly looks as if some one had seen Mr. Stebbins enter the house secretly, and watching, saw him leave. Then, this night prowler tried the game himself." "Yes, sir," replied Stebbins. "Just the same sort of spring, inside and out. Anybody seein' me go through, either way, could easily work out the secret. But, not knowing of it, nobody'd ever suspect." "Of course not," agreed Braye. "Now, we have a start, let us get to work on the more serious aspect of the affair. For, while this revelation explains the entrance of some midnight marauder, with intent to frighten us, it doesn't do much toward lessening the mystery of those two deaths." "You're sure, Mr. Stebbins," and Eve turned glittering eyes on him, "that you never 'haunted' after that night when you appeared to me! You know a ghost appeared to Vernie after that. Can we believe that was not the work of the same malignant----"