was rich; and in America, you know,
everything goes in favour of the dollars. Hence we were obliged to let
the matter drop, sincerely trusting Dolly would never take it into her
head to visit us. She never did. My mother died last year--I felt her
death terribly, O'Donnell; and as I no longer have any fixed abode,
but am always touring the British provinces, there is not much fear
of Ralph's murderess and I meeting. It is rather odd, however, that
after my own experience at the hotel, I heard that it had borne the
reputation for being haunted for many years, and that a good many
visitors who had passed the night in one of the rooms (presumably
mine) had complained of hearing strange noises and having dreadful
dreams. How can one explain it all?"

"One can't," I responded, as we turned in for the night.

CASE XII

THE GREY PIPER AND THE HEAVY COACH OF
DONALDGOWERIE HOUSE, PERTH

Donaldgowerie House, until comparatively recent times, stood on the
outskirts of Perth. It was a long, low, rambling old place, dating
back to the beginning of the seventeenth century. At the time of the
narrative it was in the possession of a Mr. William Whittingen, who
bought it at a very low price from some people named Tyler. It is true
that it would cost a small fortune to repair, but, notwithstanding
this disadvantage, Mr. Whittingen considered his purchase a bargain,
and was more than satisfied with it. Indeed, he knew of no other house
of a similar size, of such an imposing appearance, and so pleasantly
situated, that he could have bought for less than twice the amount he
had paid for this; and he was really very sorry for the Tylers, who
explained to him, in confidence, that had they not been in such
urgent need of money, they would never have sold Donaldgowerie House
at such a ridiculously low figure. However, with them it was a
question of cash--cash down, and Mr. Whittingen had only to write out
a cheque for the modest sum they asked, and the house was his. It was
June when Mr. Whittingen took possession of the house--June, when the
summer sun was brightest and the gardens looked their best. The
Whittingen family, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Whittingen, two sons,
Ernest and Harvey, and three daughters, Ruth, Martha, and Mary, were,
as one might gather from their names alone, plain, practical, genteel,
and in fact very superior people, who were by no means lacking in that
exceedingly usefu