At my feet lay a pool, composed of all the various liquids that had been poured, upstairs, into that baffling spot in the wood.
XXI. — OUT OF THIN AIR
Except for the incident just related, when several pints of very real fluids were somehow “materialised” at a spot ten feet below where they had vanished, nothing worth recording occurred during the first seven days of our stay at Chatterton Place.
Seemingly nothing was to come of the Rhamda's warning.
On the other hand we succeeded, during that week, in working a complete transformation of the old house. It became one of the brightest spots in San Francisco. It cost a good deal of money, all told, but I could well afford it. I possessed the hundred thousand with which, I had promised myself and Harry, I should solve the Blind Spot. That was what the money was for.
On the seventh day after the night of Harry's going, our household was increased to three members. For it was then that Jerome returned from Nevada, whence he had gone two weeks before on a case.
“Not at all surprised,” he commented, when I told him of Harry's disappearance. “Sorry I wasn't here. That crook, Rhamda Avec, in at the end?”
He gnawed stolidly at his cigar as I told him the story. Then, after briefly approving what I had done to brighten the house, he announced: