"state your case fully. We will try not to interrupt you."
The detective lounged down in his chair, his heavy lips slightly drooping, and his long legs crossed indolently in front of him. His eyes had their customary vague stare through the tortoise-shell glasses that veiled them.
Hayden drew a long breath then exhaled it in a long sigh. With a brisk straightening of his shoulders he said:
"I am a carpenter. Until recently, or, to be exact, until four days ago, I lived in New Orleans. I am a bachelor, and it doesn't make much difference to me where I live, so long as I can find work at my trade. Therefore I came up here, to Sunken Mine, in the Highlands of the Hudson, to live with a widowed sister and her daughter."
He paused, and his eyes grew reflective. For a moment he was evidently measuring his words. With a quick intake of his breath, he resumed:
"My sister lives in an aged, pre-Revolutionary house, deep in the mountains. It is a lonely place, and a secluded dwelling. At one time it was probably a restful appearing country farmhouse. Today it is a weathered frame building, set in a grove of dead and whitened chestnut trees.
"The house is a one-story-and-attic affair, with rough stone fireplaces at the side, and a long sloping roof that pitches low at the rear. Owing to its age and the condition of the place, it is a dreary spot for one used to the city. My sister affects ancient, antique furnishings, which does not lesson the impression of living in the past. As soon as I crossed the door-sill I was affected by this vague, misty remembrance of being there before.
"It may strike you as strange that my sister picked out a place of this type to spend the remainder of her days. But she had, to her and her daughter, good reason. Both she and my niece are earnest spiritualists. Both receive message, and are, in truth, sincere mediums. For some reason, my sister claims that the atmosphere of the old dwelling helps them materialize those that have gone before. I myself have considerable faith in those things, although I treat it in a practical manner. I only believe what I actually see. What I am about to relate, I have both seen and felt."
Hayden paused for an instant to stare earnestly at Burke. The detective nodded to him to continue.
"I have read deeply," went on Hayden, "and in my spare time I could be called a bookworm. I work at my trade, but live much in the past, especially in books. For this reason, I could be sympathetic to my sister's idea of living close to her life's hobby, or her "mission," as she calls it.
"There is one more reason why my sister purchased the place, six weeks ago. It was the original settling place of the family, before the Revolution. As the result of a family tragedy, some hundred years or more ago, the place passed into other hands. Few new buildings are constructed in that sparsely settled, unfertile section, and most of the houses have stood for generations. Consequently, the old Hayden house was never disturbed. At the time it came back into the family it was vacant and for sale.
"They had been living there about two months when I came there to live with them. The room I occupied Sunday night is on the second floor. It is a semi-attic room, lit by one window. Before I came, the room was occupied by my niece. On my arrival it was arranged for me, and the girl and her mother occupied a bedroom downstairs.
"It was around eleven-thirty Sunday night when I went to bed, and was soon asleep. I awoke with the feeling that something was stifling me. It was as if I had a heavy cold and found difficulty in breathing. This peculiar sensation of suffocation finally caused me to rouse into complete wakefulness. The strange smothering seemed to ease as I got more fully awake. Unable to fall asleep again, I lay looking out of the window at the stars. The bed is at the end of the room, and then window was in direct sight.
"The house was intensely still. I noticed this in particular, as I remarked
