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MUCH ADO ABOUT PETER
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stables were built. A few days before, Peter, himself unobserved, had seen Wallace knock three times on the door, and had heard a voice from inside respond:
"Who goes there?"
"A friend," said Wallace.
"Give the countersign."
"Blood!"
"Pass in," said the voice.
The door had opened six inches while Wallace squeezed through. Peter had supposed it merely their latest play, unintelligible but harmless; now, however, he commenced putting two and two together. Evidently, his was not the only case of dual personality.
"Gee! I'm a fool not to have thought of it," he muttered.
"Oh, Pete!" Annie implored. "Do you know where he is?"
Peter controlled his features and gravely shook his head.
"I can't say as I do, exactly, but this here