THE GIRL IN HIS HOUSE
But each night, somewhere around nine o'clock, he patrolled the opposite side of the street, watching the windows of what had once been an ordinary, unlovely brownstone, but which was now worthy of a site in the ancient city of Bagdad.
On the third night he awoke to the astonishing fact that his vigils were being shared by another. Almost directly in front of the house stood a fire-box. A man leaned against it. He remained motionless for fully an hour; then he walked away. Armitage had noticed him on the previous nights, but casually. To-night, however, the singularity of the event stirred him into the realization of the fact that yonder individual was watching the house. As the man started to walk away Armitage ran across, hailing:
"Just a moment there, if you please!"
The man stopped.
"Are you watching that house?" demanded Armitage.
"What's that to you?" countered the stranger, calmly.
"A good deal perhaps. A little while ago I owned that house, and I am still
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