Then I told him as much of my story as seemed necessary to obtain his advice and to secure his cooperation.  I confided to him my theory of the unexplainable sights and sounds which had so unfortunately aroused Mrs. Packard’s imagination, and what I had done so far to substantiate it.  I did not mention the bonds, nor tell him of Bess and her box, but led him to think that my experiments in the cellar had been the result of my discoveries in the side entrance.

He listened gravely—­I hardly feel justified in saying with a surprise that was complimentary.  I am not sure that it was.  Such men are difficult to understand.  When I had finished, he remarked with a smile: 

“So you conclude that the floor of this place is movable and that the antiquated ladies you mention have stretched their old limbs in a difficult climb, just for the game of frightening out tenants they did not desire for neighbors?”

“I know that it sounds ridiculous,” I admitted, refraining still, in spite of the great temptation, from mentioning the treasure which it was the one wish of their lives to protect from the discovery of others.  “If they were quite sane I should perhaps not have the courage to suggest this explanation of what has been heard and seen here.  But they are not quite sane; a glance at their faces is enough to convince one of this, and from minds touched with insanity anything can be expected.  Will you go with me to this side entrance and examine the floor for yourself?  The condition of things under it I will ask you to take my word for; you will hardly wish to visit the cellar on an exploring expedition till you are reasonably assured of its necessity.”

His eye, which had grown curiously cold and unresponsive through this, turned from me toward the desk before which he had been sitting.  It was heaped high with a batch of unopened letters, and I could readily understand what was in his mind.

“You will be helping the mayor more by listening to me,” I continued earnestly, “than by anything you can do here.  Believe me, Mr. Steele, I am no foolish, unadvised girl.  I know what I am talking about.”

He suppressed an impatient sigh and endeavored to show a proper appreciation of my own estimate of myself and the value of my communication.

“I am at your service,” said he.

I wished he had been a little more enthusiastic, but, careful not to show my disappointment, I added, as I led the way to the door: 

“I wish we could think of some way of securing ourselves from interruption.  Nixon does not like me, and will be sure to interest himself in our movements if he sees us go down that hall together.”

“Is there any harm in that?”

“There might be.  He is suspicious of me, which makes it impossible for one to count upon his conduct.  If he saw us meddling with the cabinet, he would be very apt to rush with his complaints to Mrs. Packard, and I am not ready yet to take her into our confidence.  I want first to be sure that my surmises are correct.”