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I don't know anything about the old lady, but I do know that room 3 was repapered the night before last, and secretly, by him. I didn't see him do it, nobody did, but this is how I know: Some weeks ago I was hunting for something in the attic, when I stumbled upon some rolls of old wall-paper lying in a little cubby-hole under the eaves.
"Hi s'y!" she cried, and dashed into the gloomy cubby-hole. "Wot's this? You scrubbin'? Drop it, now, you 'ear? Hit 'yn't fer me to show no disrespeck, Frowline, but drop it. Hi 'yn't a-goin' to have them pretty 'ands hall spoilt." "But, M'riarrr, I just love to scrub." "Don't love hanythink so vulgar," M'riar replied without a moment's hesitation.
Under the roof of the metropolitan social temple there was a niche into which her forefathers had fitted. Within the confines of this she expected, and was expected, to live and move and have her being, and ultimately wing upward to her God, leaving the consecrated cubby-hole reserved for her descendants.
He fumbled about at the back of the cabinet for a spring that would release another secret cubby-hole, and was rewarded at last by an unexpected click, and the seemingly solid jaws of the lion fell apart about half-an-inch. But the little aperture which they revealed was empty. Further experiment at last discovered the fourth hiding place, but this also contained nothing.
After dinner the cowboy sports were to come off. When Ted could get away from his duties as host for a few minutes he sauntered through the crowd, extending greetings to all whom he knew, but at the same time keeping a close watch over everything. The theft of the money from the cubby-hole had aroused in him all his detective instincts.
I had told the brigade clerk that he could go to bed in his 3 feet by 6 feet cubby-hole, and that the orderlies waiting to convey the battle orders to the batteries ought to snatch some rest also. It was 11 P.M. now. Wilde and the doctor had gone off to their own dug-out. It was very dark when I looked outside the mess.
Come, we'll wait outside the main office for a few minutes until the gases mix." It seemed hours before Kennedy deemed it safe to enter the office again with a light. When we did so, we made a rush for the little cubby-hole of an office at the other end. On the floor was a little can of ether, evaporated of course, and beside it a small apparatus apparently used for producing electric sparks.
There was a small vestibule with a little glass cage of an office on one side and beyond it an old-fashioned flight of stairs, with a glass knob on the post at the foot, winding to the upper stories. At the sound of my footsteps on the mosaic flooring, a waiter emerged from a little cubby-hole under the stairs.
He had barely time, in the reeling shadows, to fall on the earthen floor, and crawl under a thin curtain of reeds to a new refuge. Into this a cubby-hole where the compradore kept his tally-slips, umbrella, odds and ends the torchlight shone faintly through the reeds.
"Because, at first having forgotten his precise directions after so many years, the Marquis could not find the fourth and last hiding-place in the cabinet, in which he knew the Marechal had placed the other half of the torn scrap of paper. Another time he did find the cubby-hole, and it was empty. So knowing he was watched by you and Mr. Pembroke, he decided that you must have found it.
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