"Who's in the house with him?"
"No one. We are coming back later, to release him."
"Just wait here. I'll go in and question him."
"Certainly, my dear sir, certainly. Sim, wait in the wagon for me a moment and I'll go up and show the gentleman in. But really, sir, you're running a great risk. It's a contagious disease, and——"
"Oh, I'll chance it," quietly said Old King Brady, as he took a chew of tobacco, and eyed Harry, who was still lurking in the area, opposite.
"As you please, sir. Come ahead," said Mr. Gloom, and as they went up the steps into the big front yard, the man called Sim swung himself up on the driver's seat, and took the whip and reins in his hands.
Beside the undertaker, Old King Brady mounted the front stoop.
Mr. Gloom seized the knob, pushed open the door and said, affably:
"Go right in, sir. The hall is dark, but——"
"Oh, I ain't afraid of that," said the old detective. "I've got matches."