The Secret of the Lonely House.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVIII, Issue 21, 20 November 1912, Page 42

The Secret of the Lonely House.

By

FREDERICK F. SCHRADER.

FOUR travelling salesmen were hugging the stove in Patterson’s little country hotel one windy night before Christmas, waiting for a late train ami telling their experiences to while away the time. Each had a more or less thrilling tale to tell, and it was now the turn of George W. Fanning. the varnish man. who, a.s they all knew, had done fourteen years of coinrnerv.ia l scouting in inaccessible regions of the West, travelling over Indian trails in a two-horse buggy, lugging his heavy grips ” through torrential rains to reach towns that had sprung up in a night on the borders of civilisation, ami accund.iting a vast store of experiences, which at intervals he retailed to his friends with the peculiar genius of a born story-teller. It was Christmas Eve, he began, about eight years ago. in the State of Missouri, a day or two after a tremendous snowfall. A spell of freezing weather had get in. following a *hort thaw that had turned everything into slush. i was working hard to finish a certain little town on the Missouri River, aiming to cross over to the oth-cr side by night, and from there reach a point where tin* passenger train would stop an hour or two after midnight, to take in water and expedite me on my way home to spend Christinas with my family. You know the feeling. I had been unexpectedly delayed. and. unless I made this particular connection. I was certain to have to eat my ( hristmas turkey in some little backwoods tavern, which wasn’t a very cheerful thing to look forward to. When, after passing through snow and slush up to my ankles,’ I reached the ferry landing, well along towards evening. after completing my business in the low n, I found to my dismay that there was >o much Boating ice in the river that the ferry had suspended operations, and the men in charge relu.-cd point-blank to take the risk of crossing for one passenI otfeied to pay double fare, then rai-cd it to four or five fares; but the men shook their heads, and declared they wouldn't chance the perils of the river, with night coming on. shoals of ice racing savagely down stream, and the cold growing more bitter every minute. There was nothing for it but to tramp back up town, which I did. feeling as glum as could be. (hi my way I stopped at a bar-room, w h.:».-e proprietor, a rather eccentric < h.i r.u ter. I happened to know', thinking I would ask him if he could refer me to anybody win would take a chance to ferry me across ihe ri\ei and earn an extra dollar for (hristmas. Two men who were in the bar room spoke up. ami said thev would row me across for a five dollar bill. Though the men had been imbibing freely. I concluded to risk it, and promptly accepted their offer, ami the three of us marched down to the riverbank. after a drink all round at my expen.c. The craft in which I was to make the crossing was a flat -hottomed skill' full of snow. The men did not stop to clear it, but told me to get in. I had no Room r cleared a place for myself in the stern and set the “grips” I carried in the bottom of the boat than they pushed oil’ for the middle of the stream. I holding t«> the gun w «il<s with both Lands to Keep from going over the side. T will not trouble you with an account of our passage of the river, except to say that wp wore no sooner clear of the shore than I realised that I had more to fear from the drunken fellow who was handling the oars than from the ice or the swiftly running eiirieiit of the swollen stream. This person had not, apparently. the least appreciation *of our danger. lie proceeded to start an argument with mo. bv« oming greatly excited, and, though 1 absented to everything lie sail!, he grew so violent in bis nunuer that be kept me moving from one side to the other in a ludicrous endeavour to keep the era ft upright, expostulating with

him all the time to stop talking and attend to his oars. I landed in safety, however, paid the men, and then, climbing up the rugged bank, took a long survey of my surroundings. It was a disheartening outlook. I found myself alone beside the river, in a peculiarly desolate region, with night stealing on, a leaden, overcast sky, and a biting wind that chilled me to the bone sweeping across the bleak ant lonely fields. Obviously 1 had landed him in place where human habitations were few and far between. After some scouting, however, which involved a considerable tramp, I managed to find a lonely farmhouse and to persuade the farmer by a liberal offer to bitch up a team and convoy me to the tank station, where 1 was due to connect with the tramThe fellow drove me like mad. The furrows were deep and hard as flint from the frost, and I and my grips, in the springless bed of the waggon, were

tossed about like dry peas in a pod. Jt was useless to try to engage the driver in conversation. I had never been this way before, and was anxious to make inquiries regarding the accommodation, for I knew that I should have many hours to wait until the train would conio along; but all I could gather from my guide, as we buckl'd ami jolted over the frozen road, was that he ‘‘reckoned 1 wouldn’t have to freeze to death before the train arrived,” some time after midnight. It was a hard, unpleasant ride; but that journey, too, came to an end at last, much to my relief. He put me down in the middle of the road near the tank, took his fee, and disappeared in the darkness at as furious a pace as he had come. I was alone in the night. In the distance 1 eould still hear the waggon rumbling over the frozen road. < >n my left 1 eould faintly make out the watering tank, a high spectral structure on its scaffold: oil the right, about two hundred yards from the railway-track, I could see the looming shadows of a long, low structure with a wide roof, whiyh I Latex found to be an old sawmill. It was

without sign of life, and resembled the frozen carcase of a black mastodon. The only gleam of light visible came front a gaunt two-storey house separated from the saw-mill by a narrow alley-way, in which the north wind had piled up a mass of drifting snow. Against ono side of the house'a heap of sawdust had been banked high, as if to protect it from the blast. All this I was able to make out, as I approached nearer, by the reflected light of the snow and the faint electric gleam of the sullen sky overhead. I was in the midst of a barren, desolate country, relieved only by the speetre-like silhouettes of the saw-mill and the house by its side. Except for the water-tank by the railway. track, there was no other visible sign of human existence in this bleak expanse of snowy landscape. 1 walked toward the light, shining through panes made almost impenetrable by dirt, ami, finding the door, I knocked vigorously. There was a short delay. I could hear the suppressed hum of voices, followed by absolute silence, finally ending in the door being slowly opened. 1 found myself face to faee with a eoarse-looking woman, who eyed me with evdient suspicion, and seemed at first strongly disinclined to admit me. Briefly I explained to her my predieament. Would, she be so good as to serve me with supper and let. me claim the hospitality of her house until the late passenger train came along to carry me to my destination? Then, without further parley, she admitted me to a large, squalid

room, in which half a dozen rough-look-ing men, whom I took to be labourers, were seated around a table eating supper. The whole appearance of the place impressed me extremly unfavourably. The loom was gloomy'and barren of all save the most indispensable articles of comfort. A large cast-iron stove gave out an intense heat, and on the wall in a bracket hung a smoky coal-oil lamp, whose dim light furnished the only illumination. There was a capacious watercooler on one side, and in a coiner near the window -through which 1 had seen the light stood a table. Tlie company at supper presented the appearance of as motley a crew as ever flew skull and erossbonvs. Although the landlady was evidently a native, the men were of a decidedly foreign east, which J took to be Slav or Italian. I had ideally .stumbled upon a low boarding-house for the hands employed at. the saw-mill, which Was operated only during certain months of the year, and had shut down now that the winter season was on. Men do not cut timber when the thermometer is ten or fifteen

degrees below zero, the snow to their waists, or the river closed to logging by floating iee. These mills are in the main mere shanties, three, sides enclosed by rough boards, the fourth open, with an airy roof to throw off the rain, ami equipped with from one to three largo circular saws and an upright engine to supply the power. • The whole arrangement is contrived for temporary purposes, to be shifted when desired, according to the supply of timber available, bub is usually simply abandoned to rust and decay on ceasing to be profitable. None of the men spoke as I entered, and the landlady answered in stolid monosyllables to indicate that she would serve me, and thereupon took off hen apron, which she laid on the table by the window. I thought this action rather: strange, but in the circumstances 1 attached to no particular importance to it, and set my bags down near the wall, prepared to satisfy my healthy appetite with whatever might be set before me. While I was waiting the men arose one after another, without speaking, and—apparently not noticing me—-disappeared up a stainway that gave out a series of painful squeaks under their heavy feet. When I had finished my primitive meal the landlady and I iwere alone. I asked her what I iwas to pay, and she said twenty-five cents. Having liquidated my obligation, she finally said ‘‘she allowed she’d retire” and leave me to sit up foe the train. I might remain there till it was time for me to go. “When you do leave,” she said, “just blow- out the light, close t.he stove, and go out by. that door.” She indicated a door opposite to the one by which I had entered, facing the railway-track. “There’s a bucket of coal,” she added; “if the fire burns down, heap on more coal. But mind you close the. stove, blow out the lamp, and go out by that door.” I promised solemnly to comply with her instructions, and was then left to my own reflections, sole tenant of the lower portion of the house. For a while I heard her walking upstairs. Then a deep, brooding silence fell upon the lonely premises. I must confess I did not like the look of things. The air of abject poverty about the place, the coarse, sullen faces of the men, and the slovenly appearance of the landlady, coupled with the complete isolation of the house in this accessible region, combined to make nie feel a little uneasy. Now came the added sense of deep silence and utter solitude, While.l listened wearily to the indescribable moaning of. the wind in the passage-way between the house and the sawmill. It reminded me of the wail of a human being in the last extremity of pain. I began to recall the dark, bearded faces of the men at the table, with their wolfish eyes, and to wonder what chance I would have of escaping with my life if they thought I was worth robbing. I remembered how silent they had grown the instant I entered, as though at a signal. ..By degrees I began to feel an almost irresistible desire to drop off to sleep. The strenuous events of the day, together with the transition from the cold of the. river and highway to the arid heat of the room and the rancid atmosphere dispensed by the smoky oil-lamp, made it necessary for me to make an effort to rouse myself. Leaving my chair near the stove, I crossed over to the table by the window. In an aimless iway I picked up the apron and drew it aside, and there, to my, surprise, lay a neat, clean copy of # popular ladies’ journal, folded into » convenient shape to be carried in the hand, and evidently the property of -woman of culture and taste, for it still bore traces of a fugitive perfume. This ■paper was obviously as out of place in this abode of squalor as a ti.ira of diamonds would have been on the head of the masculine landlady. I eould not have believed that an inmate of this house had even touched it. Then how. had it come here?

The attempt to solve this puzzle added Io my uneasiness; yet, delighted to have found something ,to read that would keep me from giving way to my drowsiness, I picked it up, unfolded it, and was about to resume my seat when a small white object on the ' floor under tho table attracted my attention. It was a lady’s handkerchief, p f, '‘ fumed with the same essence as ths paper! This discovery startled me. A sudden thrill shot down my spine at the thought that f had stumbled upon the silent evidence of a mysterious crime.

Unimportant as my discoveries might appear in‘any'number of conceivable circumslance's, they took on a .momentous significance in these surroundings. Whoever the woman might be, she must have been in this very room a comparatively short time before my arrival. What, then, had become of her? Had she come to the house with the same object in view as myself, asking the .privilege of waiting for the train? Was she still in the house? A look around the squalid room and the thought of the character of the coarse tenants was enough to dispel any such idea. No woman would have I rusted herself overnight to the mercies id men with •such faces. Cnder the most favourable aspect of the case, the only other alternative to such conclusion was that she had hurriedly depart'd earlier in the day to lake the train, forgetting the paper and handkerchief in her haste to run down io the track. This was nut improbable, in view of the fact that there was nothing but a watering-slat ion here, where trains stopped but a few minutes. But against this theory was the suspicious circumstance that the lady had taken off her apron and used it to cover up the paper, with the evident intention of concealing it from me.. Had 1 stumbled into a den of criminals who had made away with a. chance visitor happening that way, as in my case—some hapless female who had been murdered for her plunder, as I might be if I remained in the hduse? Tor a long time T was undecided what t’» think or do. 1 would have quietly taken my departure, but .1 considered the utter hopelessness of .waiting for hours in the cold, without shelter, in a desolate country district where I should be as much exposed to assault as by remaining where I was, forewarned and prepared for any possible emergency. Accordingly I resumed my seat near the stove, tilted my chair against the wall under the lamp, unfolded the journal, and began to read, every sense keenly aroused to any possible surprise. Nine o’clock came—ten—eleven—•t wel ve ’ Time was beginning to drag frightfully, and the' train was not due till some time between one and ftwo, with every prospect that it would be late, toiiightyon account of the weather. Moreover, it would only stop a few minutes. I should have to time myself, so as to be ready to jump aboard the minute it arrived. What if I should miss it! I had now lost all desire to go to sleep. My mind was concentrated on thq train. 1 tried to dismiss the subject and fasten my attention on the paper, but 1 had already read its contents from emer to cover I had even read the advertisements —and my material for- selfentertainment had dwindled low, when suddenly I thought I heard a Taint sound amid the deep stillness that had prevailed for several hours. Was it a soft footstep on the staircase? 1 listened. Yes! The steps • leaked in spite of the apparent care taken to avoid any noise. Someone was softly descending the stairs’ I did not take time to open my grip and remove my revolver. I seized the heavy iron poker that lay beside the •dove, and. clutching it tightly in my hand. I stood erect, with the stove be--1 ween me and the stairway, my eyes fastened immovably on the open doorway in which the intruder must appear. I did not have long to wait. From the door I saw cautiously emerging the shadowy form of a powerful man, who paused in surprise on seeing me with the heavy poker in my hand, wide awake and ready to give him a hearty reception if he attempted to attack me. Evidently he had not bargained for Ihis, for he seemed undecided how to act. lor a moment neither of us spoke. At last, in a thick foreign accent, he asked ”’ c ‘ if I knew whore the drinking-water was. Although I knew that this was fady an excuse, I pointed out the water<oolor with an indignant gesture, Watched him cross the room, fill a glass, •'•nd toss it off. Then, still seeing me °n guard, the fellow tramped upstairs ftgain. and in a few moments the house Vas as silent as before. Ihe incident gave me a sharp turn. ’ felt that 1 owned my escape, so far •'•I least. to the paper 1 had found on jho table. But for that I should surely have dropped off into a doze, and per•aps fallen an easy-victim to the man Villi the thirst. I looked at my watch fcnd found that T had still an hour and half more to wait. The strain was getting on mv nerves.

Once more 4 settled myscif in my seat and waited, 'the least sound startled me, whether it came from the stove, where the coal was-sputtering and crackling, or from the dark alley-way, where the wind rose and fell in mournful cadences and seemed to sing of death and to be weaving a winding-sheet of the drifting siiow. Every ten minutes t found myself taking my watch out and noting the lime. Heavens, how it dragged! How slowly Hie minute-hand revolved on the dial! Between midnight and half-past one o'clock nothing occurred to give me any fresh cause for alarm. The silence in the house was almost uncanny. I could not shake oil’ a vague feeling that something was going to happen, but no sound broke the silence. Towards two o’clock I heard the distant rumble of an approaching train at last, ami immediately after the faint whistle of a locomotive! I heaved a sigh of relief. At last the terrible -suspense in which I had been for five mortal hours was about to end. In a few minutes I should be out of this den, on my way to pas.-. Christmas with my friends and family, and this night’s experience would be only another chapter in my life's record of adventures. These were about the thoughts I hat flitted through my brain as I bustled into my Iwavy overcoat. I never doubled that I had passed the last stage of danger, and that I would be allowed to leave this house of mystery, with its sinister tenants, unmolested. Mindful of the woman’s instructions, I closed the stove and put out the light;

then, seizing my grips, I started for the door through which she had told me to make my exit. At that moment I heard three distinct thuds in the alley way, as of heavy bodies landing in the snowbank from an upper window. But the train was now’ drawing rapidly nearer, and, tearing open the door. 1 stepped out into the darkness to make a run for it. Suddenly I experienced a thrill of horror. The floor of the room at this side was considerably above the level of tile sloping ground without. Instead of encountering the expected support for my foot, 1 stepped into empty space. The steps had been removed! Bike a flash I saw the whole plut revealed. The woman had made me extinguish the lamp and close the stovedoor to prevent any light from betraying the removal of the steps when 1 should open the door ami go out. The last lingering doubt as to the true character of the place into which 1 had stumbled was now removed. The house was the resort of a gang of assassins’ But Fate was certainly on my side that night. The heavy bed of snow broke the violence of my fall. I’nhurt. j jumped to my feet, and with my grips in my band made ready to put as much space as possible between me and the house. But I was not to escape so easily. I had not gone ton yards when I heard hurried footsteps behind me, and suddenly realised the meaning of the mysferioiis thuds I had heard as I was leaving the house. TluTr of the men had dropped out of a aecuud storey window

on to the ground beneath, and had hidden in tin* area-way, waiting for me to open the door, and confidently expect ing to see me stunned by the fall and rendered powerless to defend myself. Made temporarily helpless by the drop, they hoped to find it an easy matter to finish me and dispose of my body at their leisure. Nothing but the deep, hard bed of snow, covered with an icy crust, had foiled this calculation. I was up again almost as soon as I struck the ground. There was no time to make a light; it was- a clear case of cut and run. The train would be gone if I lost a minute. So I ran as fast as I could, badly handicapped as I was by the bags. I . shudder to think what would have happened in the next few minutes, for the rogues were gaining on me; but just at that critical stage of the race the onrushing train made a sharp turn and the whole countryside was llomled with the white glare of the locomotive's headlight. That was a providential intervention for me! 1 daresay no man's life ever hung suspended by a more slender thread. At the sight of the light 1 gave a loud shout, in the hope of attracting the attention of the engineer or fireman; but. though I wasted mv breath, the train was now quite near, and in another moment came to a stop at the tank. Without stopping in my Hight I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. My heart gave a leap. The scoundrels were scampering hack toward the house. T had shaken them off! I had barely time to throw’ mv grips

on the step of the rear coach when the engine gave a shriek and the train was again in motion. I was now facing a new danger. I had jumped on the steps of a vestibuled train, ami was facing a door almost hermetically sealed. I had only space for my feet. With one arm locked around the rail for support, 1 beat against the glass door with my right hand to attract attention, while every moment the train was gaining speed. When some of the passengers finally heard me. they thought it was an attempt to hold up the train, and it was some time before I made them understand, ami the conductor unlocked the door and took me in. paralysed with cold and terror. The ver\ next day a mysterious fire destroyed the sawmill and the house where I passed that night of horror. 'lhe band which infested the place disappeared; but when, on my report, the authorities instituted an investigation, they found beneath the sawdust io which 1 have referred the remains of five human beings, including those of a boy of about fifteen and a woman!