He verified this on mounting the steps and peering
into the vestibule through the strip of window at the
sides of the outer door. Turning the knob tentatively,
he was surprised to find it yield. On entering, he stood
in the porch and listened, but no sound reached him
from within. Taking his bunch of keys from his pocket,
he detached his latch-key softly, and as softly inserted it in
the lock. The door opened noiselessly, showing a light
down the stairway from the hall above. He could now
hear some one moving, probably on the topmost floor,
with an opening and shutting of doors that might have
been those of closets, followed by a swishing sound like

325



THE SIDE OF THE ANGELS

that of the folding or packing of dothes. He entered and
closed the door with a distinctly audible bang.
Listening again, he found that the sounds ceased sus-
piciously. Whoever was there was listening, too. It was
easy, by the light streaming from above, to find the button
and turn on the electricity in the lower hall, whereupon the
movement up-stairs began again. Some one came out
of a room and peered downward. He himself went to the
foot of the stairs, looking up. When the watcher on the
third floor spoke at last it was in a voice he didn't in-
stantly recognize. He would have taken it for Claude's,
only that it was so frightened and shrill.
^'Who's there?"

"Who are you?" Thor demanded, in tones that roUed
and echoed through the house.
There was a long, hesitating silence. Straining his eyes
upward, Thor could dimly make out a white face leaning
over the highest banister. When the question came at
last it was as if reluctantly and shrinkingly.
