had reached the stage where I refused to be
disturbed for minor occurrences.

The Armstrongs were notified of Thomas' death, and I had my first
interview with Doctor Walker as a result. He came up early the next
morning, just as we finished breakfast, in a professional looking car
with a black hood. I found him striding up and down the living-room,
and, in spite of my preconceived dislike, I had to admit that the man
was presentable. A big fellow he was, tall and dark, as Gertrude had
said, smooth-shaven and erect, with prominent features and a square
jaw. He was painfully spruce in his appearance, and his manner was
almost obtrusively polite.

"I must make a double excuse for this early visit, Miss Innes," he said
as he sat down. The chair was lower than he expected, and his dignity
required collecting before he went on. "My professional duties are
urgent and long neglected, and"--a fall to the every-day
manner--"something must be done about that body."

"Yes," I said, sitting on the edge of my chair. "I merely wished the
address of Thomas' people. You might have telephoned, if you were
busy."

He smiled.

"I wished to see you about something else," he said. "As for Thomas,
it is Mrs. Armstrong's wish that you would allow her to attend to the
expense. About his relatives, I have already notified his brother, in
the village. It was heart disease, I think. Thomas always had a bad
heart."

"Heart disease and fright," I said, still on the edge of my chair. But
the doctor had no intention of leaving.

"I understand you have a ghost up here, and that you have the house
filled with detectives to exorcise it," he said.

For some reason I felt I was being "pumped," as Halsey says. "You have
been misinformed," I replied.

"What, no ghost, no detectives!" he said, still with his smile. "What a
disappointment to the village!"

I resented his attempt at playfulness. It had been anything but a joke
to us.

"Doctor Walker," I said tartly, "I fail to see any humor in the
situation. Since I came here, one man has been shot, and another one
has died from shock. There have been intruders in the house, and
strange noises. If that is funny, there is something wrong with my
sense of humor."

"You miss the point," he said, still good-naturedly. "The thing that
is funny, to me, is that you insist on remaining here, under the
circumstances. I should think nothing would keep you."

"You are mistaken. Ever