Augusta Huiell Seaman

“ Cookson coming up the stairs, bound straight for that room. I hadn’t a doubt that he had finished sooner than I had expected, and, not finding the chest, was hurrying right to the next place to hunt for it—Uncle's room! It was a terrible moment for me. I could not make up my mind what to do—and so did nothing but wait for the coming catastrophe! I hope I shall never again be called upon to live through such a dreadful five minutes.
But, singularly enough, the unexpected happened! Mr. Cookson came along the hall, still on tiptoe, and at the door where I stood he stopped! ”

“ But they did not, and I burst into Connie’s room, breathless with running. Fortunately, Miss Carstair was not around at the moment.
“Have you seen or heard Mr. Cookson lately?” I panted as I kissed Connie.
She looked at me curiously. “Naturally, I haven’t seen him,” she replied, “but I happen to have heard him, just a few minutes ago. He passed the door just as Miss Carstair was going to her room and asked her to mail a letter for him in the village if she was going down. Then he went on downstairs. I thought he went into the library—from the sound.” ”

“ Miss Carstair bustled in at seven-thirty and found Connie feverish and restless and wasn’t at all pleased with things. I breakfasted alone, shortly after, waited on by Beulah, who was still big-eyed and tearful and inclined to be talkative over poor Uncle's sudden collapse. ”