He shook his head and reached for the aspirin. "As of now," he promised himself, "I'm on the wagon." He seemed to recall a snake too, a seven-headed snake with a gleaming carbuncle in the middle head. Permanently on the wagon! A scraping noise came from above. He listened. The noise occurred again. It seemed to emanate from the tower room on the third floor. He raced up the winding Victorian staircase, on up the narrow stairs to the attic, and stopped.
From behind the tower room door, came thin, eerie skirling of bagpipes.
"Hey, you in there," he called.
"Matey!" boomed Captain Wully's voice. "Come on in."
Captain Wully was seated on an old sea-chest, the bagpipes still tucked under his arm. "Hope my practicing didn't disturb you. I play second bagpipe in the banshee band."
"But the scraping noise...."
"My sea-chest. I had a little trouble getting you home by cockcrow, and I had to move the sea-chest on overtime. I want to say right now it was right decent of you to offer me a home on such short acquaintance. I appreciate it, and I promise to show my—"
"Look," said Jerry. "All this time I was being so big-hearted, did I also say I was going to have to sell the house for non-payment of taxes?"
"You didn't. If I'd a-known that, I'd put you wise to grabbing Celeste's carbuncle. It's good luck."
"It didn't bring you any luck."