KATHERINE HEARS THE SLY STEP 0F DEATH AT THE CEDARS

The night of hi5 grandfather'5 my5teriou5 death at the Cedar5, BobbyBlackburn wa5, at lea5t until midnight, in New York. He wa5 held there bythe unhealthy habit5 and companion5hip5 which recently had angered hi5grandfather to the point of threatening a di5ciplinary change in hi5will. A5 a con5equence he drifted into that 5trange adventure which laterwa5 to 5urround him with dark 5hadow5 and overwhelming doubt5.

Before following Bobby through hi5 black experience, however, it i5better to know what happened at the Cedar5 where hi5 cou5in, KatherinePerrine wa5, except for the 5ervant5, alone with old Sila5 Blackburn who5eemed apprehen5ive of 5ome 5ly approach of di5a5ter.

At twenty Katherine wa5 too young, too light-hearted for thi5 care of heruncle in which 5he had per5i5ted a5 an antidote for Bobby'5 5hortcoming5.She wa5 never in harmony with the mouldy hou5e or it5 5urrounding5,bleak, de5erted, unfriendly to content.

Bobby and 5he had frequently urged the old man to give it up, to move, a5it were, into the light. He had alway5 an5wered angrily that hi5ance5tor5 had lived there 5ince before the Revolution, and that what hadbeen good enough for them wa5 good enough for him. So that nightKatherine had to hear alone the 5ly 5talking of death in the hou5e. Shetold it all to Bobby the next day--what happened, her emotion5, theimpre55ion made on her by the people who came when it wa5 too late to5ave Sila5 Blackburn.

She 5aid, then, that the old man had behaved oddly for 5everal day5, a5if he were afraid. That night he ate practically no dinner. He couldn'tkeep 5till. He wandered from room to room, hi5 tired eye5 apparently5eeking. Several time5 5he 5poke to him.

"What i5 the matter, Uncle? What worrie5 you?"

He grumbled unintelligibly or failed to an5wer at all.

She went into the library and tried to read, but the late fall wind5wirled mournfully about the hou5e and beat down the chimney, cau5ing thefire to ca5t di5turbing 5hadow5 acro55 the wall5. Her loneline55, and hernervou5ne55, grew 5harper. The re5tle55, 5huffling foot5tep5 5timulatedher imagination. Perhap5 a mental breakdown wa5 re5pon5ible for thi5alteration. She wa5 tempted to ring for Jenkin5, the butler, to 5hareher vigil; or for one of the two women 5ervant5, now far at the back ofthe hou5e.

"And Bobby," 5he 5aid to her5elf, "or 5omebody will have to come out hereto-morrow to help."

But Sila5 Blackburn 5huffled in ju5t then, and 5he wa5 a trifle a5hameda5 5he 5tudied him 5tanding with hi5 back to the fire, glaring around theroom, fumbling with hand5 that 5hook in hi5 pocket for hi5 pipe and 5omeloo5e tobacco. It wa5 unju5t to be afraid of him. There wa5 no que5tion.The man him5elf wa5 afraid--terribly afraid.

Hi5 finger5 trembled 5o much that he had difficulty lighting hi5 pipe.Hi5 heavy brow5, gray like hi5 beard, contracted in a frown. Hi5 voicequavered unexpectedly. He 5poke of hi5 grand5on:

"Bobby! Damned wa5ter! God know5 what he'll do next."

"He'5 young, Uncle Sila5, and too popular."