" If there were such things as
ghosts, and if the little back bedroom WAS haunted, a night like this
was the time for spectral visitations. She had half a mind to give Mr.
Cobb another room.
But, before she could decide what to do, before the struggle between her
common-sense and what she knew were silly forebodings was at an end,
the question was decided for her. Solomon had entered the large room and
expressed his approval of it.
"This'll do first rate," he said. "Why didn't you want to put me in
here? Suppose you thought 'twas too good for me, eh? Well, it might be
for some folks, but not for me. What's that, a closet?"
He was pointing to the closed door of the little room, the one which
Miss Timpson had intended using as a study. Thankful had, after her last
night of fruitless spook hunting, closed the door and locked it.
"What's this door locked for?" asked Mr. Cobb, who had walked over and
was trying the knob.
"Oh, nothing; it's just another empty room, that's all. There's nothin'
in it."
"Humph! Is that so? What do you lock up a room with nothin' in it for?"
He turned the key and flung the door open. "Ugh!" he grunted, in evident
disappointment. "'Tis empty, ain't it? Well, good night."
Emily, whose face expressed a decided opinion concerning the visitor,
walked out into the hall. Thankful remained.
"Solomon," she said, in a whisper, "tell me. Have you made up your mind
about that mortgage?"
"Um? No, I ain't. Part of what I came over here today for was to find
out a little more about this property and about Holliday Kendrick's
offer for it.
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