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.
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