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Brooklyn night； but this time it was what he sought。 The man stepped
stealthily； with a certain blend of wariness and assurance。 He halted
under the lamp by the bookshop door； and the glasses gave him enlarged
to Aubrey's eye。 It was Weintraub； the druggist。
The front of the bookshop was now entirely dark save for a curious
little glimmer down below the pavement level。 This puzzled Aubrey； but
he focussed his glasses on the door of the shop。 He saw Weintraub pull a
key out of his pocket； insert it very carefully in the lock； and open the door
stealthily。 Leaving the door ajar behind him； the druggist slipped into the
shop。
〃What devil's business is this？〃 thought Aubrey angrily。 〃The swine
has even got a key of his own。 There's no doubt about it。 He and Mifflin
are working together on this job。〃
For a moment he was uncertain what to do。 Should he run
downstairs and across the street？ Then； as he hesitated； he saw a pale
beam of light over in the front left…hand corner of the shop。 Through the
glasses he could see the yellow circle of a flashlight splotched upon dim
shelves of books。 He saw Weintraub pull a volume out of the case； and
the light vanished。 Another instant and the man reappeared in the
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doorway； closed the door behind him with a gesture of careful silence； and
was off up the street quietly and swiftly。 It was all over in a minute。 Two
yellow oblongs shone for a minute or two down in the area underneath the
door。 Through the glasses he now made out these patches as the cellar
windows。 Then they disappeared also； and all was placid gloom。 In the
quivering light of the street lamps he could see the bookseller's sign
gleaming whitely； with its lettering THIS SHOP IS HAUNTED。
Aubrey sat back in his chair。 〃Well；〃 he said to himself； 〃that guy
certainly gave his shop the right name。 This is by me。 I do believe it's
only some book…stealing game after all。 I wonder if he and Weintraub go
in for some first…edition faking； or some such stunt as that？ I'd give a lot
to know what it's all about。〃
He stayed by the window on the qui vive； but no sound broke the
stillness of Gissing Street。 In the distance he could hear the occasional
rumble of the Elevated trains rasping round the curve on Wordsworth
Avenue。 He wondered whether he ought to go over and break into the shop
to see if all was well。 But； like every healthy young man； he had a horror
of appearing absurd。 Little by little weariness numbed his apprehensions。
Two o'clock clanged and echoed from distant steeples。 He threw off his
clothes and crawled into bed。
It was ten o'clock on Sunday morning when he awoke。 A broad
swath of sunlight cut the room in half： the white muslin curtain at the
window rippled outward like a flag。 Aubrey exclaimed when he saw his
watch。 He had a sudden feeling of having been false to his trust。 What had
been happening across the way？
He gazed out at the bookshop。 Gissing Street was bright and demure
in the crisp quietness of the forenoon。 Mifflin's house showed no sign of
life。 It was as he had last seen it； save that broad green shades had been
drawn down inside the big front windows； making it impossible to look
through into the book…filled alcoves。
Aubrey put on his overcoat in lieu of a dressing gown； and went in
search of a bathtub。 He found the bathroom on his floor locked； with
sounds of leisurely splashing within。 〃Damn Mrs。 J。 F。 Smith；〃 he said。
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He was about to descend to the storey below； bashfully conscious of bare
feet and pyjamaed shins； but looking over the banisters he saw Mrs。
Schiller and the treasure…dog engaged in some household manoeuvres。 The
pug caught sight of his pyjama legs and began to yap。 Aubrey retreated in
the irritation of a man baulked of a cold tub。 He shaved and dressed
rapidly。
On his way downstairs he met Mrs。 Schiller。 He thought that her
gaze was disapproving。
〃A gentleman called to see you last night； sir；〃 she said。 〃He said he
was very sorry to miss you。〃
〃I was rather late in getting in；〃 said Aubrey。 〃Did he leave his
name？〃
〃No； he said he'd see you some other time。 He woke the whole house
up by falling downstairs；〃 she added sourly。
He left the lodging house swiftly； fearing to be seen from the bookshop。
He was very eager to learn if everything was all right； but he did not want
the Mifflins to know he was lodging just opposite。 Hastening diagonally
across the street； he found that the Milwaukee Lunch； where he had eaten
the night before； was open。 He went in and had breakfast； rejoicing in
grapefruit； ham and eggs； coffee； and doughnuts。 He lit a pipe and sat by
the window wondering what to do next。 〃It's damned perplexing；〃 he said
to himself。 〃I stand to lose either way。 If I don't do anything；
something may happen to the girl； if I butt in too soon I'll get in dutch with
her。 I wish I knew what Weintraub and that chef are up to。〃
The lunchroom was practically empty； and in two chairs near him the
proprietor and his assistant were sitting talking。 Aubrey was suddenly
struck by what they said。
〃Say； this here； now； bookseller guy must have struck it rich。〃
〃Who； Mifflin？〃
〃Yeh； did ya see that car in front of his place this morning？〃
〃No。〃
〃Believe me； some boat。〃
〃Musta hired it； hey？ Where'd he go at？〃
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〃I didn't see。 I just saw the bus standing front the door。〃
〃Say； did you see that swell dame he's got clerking for him？〃
〃I sure did。 What's he doing； taking her joy…riding？〃
〃Shouldn't wonder。 I wouldn't blame him〃
Aubrey gave no sign of having heard； but got up and left the
lunchroom。 Had the girl been kidnapped while he overslept？