The Mystery of the Locks

by E. W. Howe

The guest was paying a good deal of attention, and Davy went on talking.

"The place has not been occupied in a great many years. The man who built it, and occupied it, and who owns it now, made money in Davy's Bend, and went away to the city to live, where he has grown so rich that he has never sent for the plunder locked up in the rooms; I suppose it is not good enough for him now, for I am told that he is very proud. He has been trying to sell the place ever since, but Davy began going down hill about that time, and the people have been kicking it so sturdily ever since that nobody will take it. And I don't blame them, for it is nothing more than a nest for ghosts, even if it is big, and respectable-looking, and well furnished."

The guest's mind is evidently in Davy's Bend now, for he has been paying close attention to the clerk as he talks in a modest easy fashion, even neglecting his first ambition to stare Mr. Whittle out of countenance. It may be that he is in need of an establishment, and is looking out for one; but certainly he takes considerable interest in the place Silas Davy referred to as The Locks.

"Who has the renting of the house?" he interrupted the clerk to inquire.

The clerk got up from his chair, and, walking over to that portion of the room where the counter was located, took from a nail a brass ring containing a number of keys of about the same size.

"Here are the keys," Davy said, returning to his chair, and holding them up for inspection. "Number one admits you to the grounds through the iron gate; number two opens the front door; number three, any of the rooms leading off from the hall down stairs; number four, any of the rooms opening off from the hall up stairs; and number five and number six, any of the other rooms. We are the agents, I believe, though am not certain; but anyway we keep the keys. The place came to be known as The Locks because of the number of keys that were given to those who applied to see it, and The Locks it has been ever since."

The stranger rose to his feet, and paced up and down the room awhile, thinking all the time so intently that it occurred to Tug that he was puzzled to decide whether his family would consent to live in a place which had the reputation of being visited by a ghost carrying a light.

"I would like to see this house," he said, stopping in his walk finally, and addressing Davy. "I may become a purchaser. Will you show me the way to it, now?"

Up to this time, since polishing the meat-bone, Tug had occupied himself by aiming at the stranger, but as if the suggestion of a walk up to The Locks was pleasing to him, he jumped to his feet, and walked towards the door. Silas Davy made no other reply than to put the ring containing the keys on his arm, and, putting out the light, the three men stepped out into the rain together.

The Locks appear to be located towards the river; not down where the railway train stops to take people on who desire to get away from Davy's Bend, but higher up the street running at right angles in front of the hotel, for the men walk in that direction, Davy and Tug ahead carrying the lantern, with their arms locked together, and the stranger behind, who thinks the two men are a queer pair, for they seem to enjoy being out in the rain, and one of them, the smaller one, laughs frequently but timidly, while the other snorts in a manner which the stranger recognizes as signifying pleasure.