My object, Petrie, was to
bore a series of holes in the wainscoting of various rooms at The
Gables--in inconspicuous positions, of course...."
"But, my dear Smith!" I cried, "you are merely adding to my
mystification."
He stood up and began to pace the room in his restless fashion.
"I had cross-examined Weymouth closely regarding the phenomenon of the
bell-ringing, and an exhaustive search of the premises led to the
discovery that the house was in such excellent condition that, from
ground-floor to attic, there was not a solitary crevice large enough
to admit of the passage of a mouse."
I suppose I must have been staring very foolishly indeed, for Nayland
Smith burst into one of his sudden laughs.
"A mouse, I said, Petrie!" he cried. "With the brace-and-bit I
rectified that matter. I made the holes I have mentioned, and before
each I set a trap baited with a piece of succulent, toasted cheese.
Just open that grip!"
The light at last was dawning upon my mental darkness, and I pounced
upon the grip, which stood upon a chair near the window, and opened
it. A sickly smell of cooked cheese assailed my nostrils.
"Mind your fingers!" cried Smith; "some of them are still set,
possibly."
Out from the grip I began to take _mouse-traps_! Two or three of them
were still set, but in the case of the greater number the catches had
slipped. Nine I took out and placed upon the table, and all were
empty.
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