"Tell the agent I want to see him," he said when that worthy appeared, and then, returning to his desk, he sat down and mechanically opened a copy of the _Daily Register_ and tried to read it. "It's no use," he cried in a moment, crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it across the room. "That vile whistle has regularly knocked me out." The paper ball reached the door just as the agent entered, and struck him athwart the watch chain. "Beg pardon," said Hopkins, "I didn't mean that for you. Everything here seems to be bewitched this morning, that dull compilation of legal woe included." "It's of no consequence, sir, I assure you," returned the agent uneasily. "No, I don't think it amounts to a row of beans to a man who hates trouble," said Hopkins, referring more to the journal than to the untoward act of the paper ball. "But I say, Mr. Stubbs, I've been having a devil of a time in this room this morning, and when I say devil I mean devil." Stubbs paled visibly. The moment he had feared had come. "Wh--wh--what sus--seems to b--be the m--mum--matter, sir?" he stammered. "Nothing seems, something _is_ the matter," returned Hopkins. "I don't wonder you stammer. You'd stammer worse if you had been here with me three minutes ago. Stubbs, I believe this room is haunted!" Mr. Stubbs's efforts at surprise at this point were painful to witness. "Haunted, sir?" he said. "Yes, haunted!" retorted Hopkins; "and by a confoundedly impertinent something or other that not only sighs and knocks on the door but whistles, Stubbs--actually whistles. Has this room a history?" "Well, a sort of a one," returned Stubbs; "but I never heard any one complain about it on the score of whistling, sir." "Stubbs, I believe you are lying. Hasn't somebody killed an office-boy in this apartment, for whistling?" queried Hopkins, gazing sternly at the shuffling agent. "I'll take an affidavit that nothing of the kind ever happened," returned the agent, gaining confidence. "That won't be necessary," said Toppleton. "I am satisfied with your assurance. But, Stubbs, to what do you attribute these beastly disturbances? Ghosts?" "Of course not, Mr. Toppleton," replied Mr. Stubbs. "I fancy you must have heard some boy whistling in the hall." "How about the knock and the sigh?" demanded the American. "The knock is easily accounted for," returned the agent. "Somebody in the room above you must have dropped something on the floor, while the sigh was probably the wind blowing through the key-hole." "Or a bit of fog coming down the chimney, eh, Stubbs?" put in Hopkins, satirically. "No, sir," replied poor Stubbs, growing red where he had been white; "there is no fog to-day, sir." "True, Stubbs; and you will likewise observe there is no wind to sough through key-holes," retorted Hopkins, severely, rising and walking to the window.