The Tall House Mystery (Musaicum Murder Mysteries). Dorothy Fielding

saw Haliburton sit up with sudden interest, his large clear eyes fastened on Moy. Moy knew why and nodded to himself with an inward grin. The fish was rising.

      "Of course, it's hardly ever that a house of that kind is to be had furnished for a bit over a month, five weeks to be exact. As a rule, I could do nothing with so short a time, but I happened to speak of it to Frederick Ingram yesterday morning." More interest in Haliburton's steady gaze. Even Tark of the impassive features seemed to be listening very intently. "Yes, I mentioned it to Fred Ingram yesterday. His brother Charles and he—"

      "Half-brother," corrected Haliburton in a tone as though the detail mattered.

      "—half-brother, then," Moy corrected, "are also clients of ours. We handle their father's estate."

      "If you're going to take Frederick Ingram as a lessee!" Haliburton spoke with a contempt at variance with his usual placidity.

      "Hardly!" Moy's tone matched the other's. "No, he doesn't come in to this except as the originator of the proposal, which is this: Miss Pratt, it seems, wants tremendously to stay in town in a really old house with genuine period furnishings, and, though the Tall House is shabby enough inside and out, it contains some magnificent old stuff. Entailed, of course, or it wouldn't be there. Well, bearing this in mind about Miss Pratt, Freddie wondered if his brother wouldn't like to take the house on for the few remaining weeks."

      Haliburton's face flushed.

      "But Ingram turned it down when I dropped in last evening," Moy went on, and Haliburton's flush died away.

      "He thought it would be beyond him. It's not merely the rent, it's the servants, and all that sort of thing. Well, that seemed that, but this morning Frederick had another brain wave. The new idea is to form a sort of syndicate among ourselves, five of us, and each take the house and run it for a week. Mrs. Pratt and her daughter being the guests of each host in turn. Charles Ingram is quite keen on this amended form. He will be one of the five; a friend of his, Gilmour, who shares a flat with him at Harrow, will make two; I come in as third—my humble tenement is in the hands of the plumbers at the moment, and I assure you I shall be thankful not to dance to any more of their piping for a while. Ingram at once suggested my asking you to be the fourth host, and any friend whom you liked to nominate could be the fifth. That would make you and him all square, he seems to think."

      "That's very decent of Ingram," Haliburton said warmly. "Of course, I accept with pleasure. And Tark, here, will come as the fifth man, I know. He's keen on getting to know Ingram better, since reading one of his books."

      Tark's affirmative came at once. He moved for a moment so that the light fell full on him, and Moy thought again how unprepossessing his face was, with its narrow lips slightly askew, its narrow-bridged nose just off the true, and its narrow dark eyes that never seemed to dance or sparkle. But his lips were parted now as though he were breathing fast. Moy was surprised. That Haliburton should be interested, he could understand, or rather he had firmly expected, for he and Charles Ingram were suitors for the hand of Winnie Pratt, but that Tark should be stirred...he had had an almost wolfish look for a second...Fortunately Haliburton was vouching for him, otherwise Moy would never have let him come in. But at any rate, he, Moy, could now tell Ingram that the syndicate was complete. Just like chivalrous Ingram to have practically insisted that his rival should have an equal chance with himself. Probably by the end of the five weeks Miss Pratt would have made up her mind which of the two men she preferred. Haliburton had been prime favorite till a month ago, when Ingram had first met her, and had seemed to score with his talk of books and plays. Ingram was a highbrow, a writer of scientific books himself. Mathematics was his especial line, but he was a man of broad literary interests. Mrs. Pratt openly favored Haliburton, but then Haliburton's rent roll explained that, and in time he would succeed his shipping grandfather in the peerage. Moy was looking forward to the five weeks. He certainly ought to get good material for his play out of it. Take Winnie Pratt for instance...a lovely young thing, complexion all cream and roses. But with no character that one could get hold of, how could one catch her wonderful charm?

      Tark was speaking again. Moy felt as though the man's vocal chords must creak with the unaccustomed work.

      "Ingram's book on Ciphers Past and Present is positively monumental." He spoke with slow heavy emphasis.

      Moy did not know whether Tark's praise referred to quantity or quality, but he nodded a cheerful assent.

      "I take the first week, beginning next Friday," he told them. "So as to get things rolling smoothly."

      "Friday!" broke in Tark, "why not Thursday or Saturday?"

      Moy thought he was joking, but the wooden features did not show any indication of it being a jest. On the contrary, Tark repeated his question.

      "It fitted in better," Moy said rather vaguely.

      "He's superstitious as a cat," Haliburton said.

      Moy burst out laughing. "You mean nervous—" and he laughed again, for any one less nervous—if looks could be relied on—than Tark, he had yet to see.

      "Well, he's superstitious as a Solomon Islander, then," Haliburton amended. "That's because he's not a fatalist. But go on, Moy, you're going to take the first week—"

      "I suggested that Ingram should take the second, but he thought you and he should toss for it."

      "Certainly not! Of course Ingram must take the second week," Haliburton said definitely. "Any week after his will suit me. And I'll take one day less or more, Tark, so as 'to throw your week, when it comes, on to the most auspicious moment."

      Moy reflected how easy it was to work with pleasant chaps like Ingram and Haliburton.

      "All right, then, you take the third week—" he was jotting notes down as he spoke, "shall we put Gilmour in for the fourth, and Tark here for the fifth?"

      But Haliburton suggested that as Tark seemed so fussy over days—his smile rid the words of all offense—perhaps it would be better for Gilmour to take the third week, which would bring his, Haliburton's, week and Tark's together at the end, when days could be added or omitted as preferred. It was settled like that, and Moy stayed a few minutes more to explain how he had arranged about servants—which was why it would have been very awkward to alter the date of taking over the house. Another client of his firm's had given her servants a holiday on board wages and had been groaning at the expense. He had wired her a suggestion that he could get them a five weeks' engagement en bloc, to which she had agreed with alacrity.

      The servants, too, partly unable to help themselves, and partly taken with the idea of handsome tips, had agreed to start work this coming Friday if so requested by Moy. Everything promised to go without a hitch. He would be treasurer. Any man could invite any friends he wanted during his week, but Moy hoped that only the bedrooms on one of the floors would be used, as he wanted no trouble with the maids. The house had a couple of full-size lawn tennis courts behind it, and day-time friends of any, or all, of the five would be welcome. As for evening entertainments, he, Moy, would give an opening dance, and a dance would close the last of the five weeks, otherwise, again remembering the servants, the hosts would do their entertaining outside the house.

      Moy left, after the two had signed a simple preliminary agreement. Haliburton turned to Tark when the young solicitor had hurried out to his little car.

      "I had no idea until you told me, that you were interested in Ingram's line of work." Haliburton looked at his companion with friendly curiosity as they sauntered back to their table in the lounge.

      "Numbers, the science of numbers, has always fascinated me." Tark was unresponsive as always, yet now there was something in the dark depths of his eyes like slumbering fire. "More so even than ciphers, and they're fascinating enough."

      There were those who hinted that Tark was getting full payment out of Haliburton for having dived in and held up the other's unconscious body, but if so, his manners were certainly not those of a climber. He gave the impression of disliking everyone at first sight. Even Haliburton at times wished that someone else had saved his life.

      Moy drove on to Harrow,