"About three hours after his disappearance up the shore of the river I heard hurried steps, and slipped out into the hallway at entrance of the stairs and watched. Paul walked rapidly by, and I followed at safe distance. He soon entered his room. I returned and retired, but felt that some fearful crime had been committed.
"Next morning I bought daily papers, to learn if anything had happened to Oswald or Alice. Feeling uneasy, I haunted the neighborhood of Alice's home, but saw no signs. In the afternoon I visited the point where the boat had been taken. The keeper remarked:
"'What could have happened to that good-lookin' jay and bloomin' sweetheart of his'n? I doesn't care how much they spoons, but I wants my boat.'
"Much excited, I was walking around, wondering what had happened, when you two were seen coming. Feeling ashamed to meet the friends of the girl against whom had been brought the villainous suit, I moved up the stream to where there would be a good view of your actions. Pretty soon both of you and the keeper started up the river in a boat. I then knew neither Oswald nor Alice had returned. That they had been killed by Paul Lanier I was now sure.
"A sense of indirect complicity in this crime oppressed my heart. I skulked away and hid in my room. Uneasy there, I went over to Paul's quarters, but he was not in. His father was there, and seemed nervous. The old man asked if I had heard any news, adding that he had not been in the street yet. I noticed some of that morning's papers upon the table. He watched me suspiciously, but I acted unconcerned. I affected not to notice his nervous manner, but noted all. Listening intently to every sound, he would answer me mechanically, then would get up, slowly yawn, and shuffle toward the window fronting the street. Glancing each way, he then would be seated. His questions, answers, remarks, pauses, and whole manner confirmed me in the conviction that he had been informed of some act of Paul's resulting in the death of the missing parties. He finally became quiet, and made no responses to my talk. I knew he wished to be alone, and rose to go. Following to the door, he was extremely polite, begging me to call again next day, sure. As I left, the door closed quickly, the bolt was thrust, and the lock clicked. I waited near, but where he could not see me.
"In about fifteen minutes a stooped form, with snow-white, flowing beard, feebly emerged from the hallway. Bending over a heavy cane, this old man looked through large colored glasses up, down, and across the street. He slowly started in an opposite direction from where I was standing. After he had turned the corner, I walked rapidly around the block, and saw the old man still pegging away, watching everything along his path. Soon his steps quickened, and I was compelled to walk rapidly. Finally he turned a corner, entering a narrow alley extending between rows of low buildings. I crossed to the other side of the street, and passed down to the alley, but the old man had disappeared.
"I was sure that either Pierre or Paul Lanier, in this disguise, was now hiding in one of these low buildings along the alley. Though much excited, I knew better than longer to continue my stay in that quarter. I returned to watch the entrance to the room occupied by Paul and his father.
"In about two hours this same stooping figure slowly came up the street and entered the hallway. I was sure that Pierre Lanier had visited Paul, and was keeping him posted.
"That evening I went down to the boathouse and learned about the finding of Oswald's hat. The boat had been found. I felt creepy, and that night retired early.
"Next morning's papers told of the disappearances. In the afternoon I went over to Paul's room. Both were in, and greeted me with great apparent pleasure. They wondered why I did not come sooner. After a while Paul carelessly asked me if I had read any of the morning papers. Neither he nor his father had been on the street, except for meals. I told him that there had been considerable in the papers about our mutual friends. Here were the accounts. I expressed doubt of their correctness, and carelessly remarked: