"I'll be back in a little while, boys," said the young chief, as he
followed the stenographer outside. There was an oil lamp in the
driveway leading to the street, and Bert, pausing under it, pulled out
the queer slip of paper, and showed it to Mort.
"I thought maybe you might know something about this," he said.
"Where did you get it?"
"I picked it up right near where you saw me, under the window. Some
one threw it out."
"So, that's why you were there, eh? I couldn't imagine. I thought you
were trying to find out something about that house of mystery."
"So I was. Why did you warn me away?"
"Because, as I told you, Muchmore was right there. I happened to see
you when I was at work, in the place he has fitted up as an office,
and I didn't want you to get into trouble. You were on his private
land, and he would just as soon as not have you arrested."
"I'm not afraid of that. But what do you make of this message?"
Mort, who had not closely examined the paper before, started as he
caught sight of it.
"Why, that was written on my typewriter!" he exclaimed. "I mean on the
one Muchmore bought for me to use. I can tell, because the letter 'e'
prints a little bit out of alignment.
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