Read Online Within That Room! by John Russell Fearn - Free Book Online

whispered, as she prowled with Dick.
    â€œIs this the same smell you noticed in the night?” he questioned.
    â€œNo, it’s sweet violets by comparison.”
    Dick raised his voice again. “What is this queer, deadly odor, Mrs. Falworth? Any idea?”
    â€œPerhaps the fungoid growth in the corners,” the woman answered. “I have noticed it myself at times. Observe!”
    She went over to an angle in the wall and pointed to a greenish mass flourishing in the perpetual gloom.
    â€œMmmm, maybe,” Dick agreed; then he did not speak again until he came to the shattered fireplace. He stood looking down at the miscellany of bricks with the brownish red ash amongst them. It seemed to Vera that there was more ash than on her previous visit, but perhaps it was only fancy. At any rate she made no comment.
    â€œBeen burning something here, Mrs. Falworth?” Dick asked. “It looks like linoleum ash....”
    â€œNot as far as I know, sir,” she answered calmly. “Of course, I cannot answer for my husband. As the odd-job man he does quite a few things down here. He may have burned up some rubbish.”
    Dick looked again at the ash, frowning; then he peered at the shattered fireplace and the black hole of the flue at the back. Finally he turned to Vera.
    â€œWants repairing,” he said.
    Moving aside, he looked at the locked door of the neighboring cellar.
    â€œAnything in here?” he questioned.
    â€œOnly a lot of old stuff, sir.”
    â€œWe can have that moved out. The place may be just what I want for my photographic work. Open it, please.”
    The housekeeper seemed to think quickly, then realizing that the order had to be obeyed—for Vera, as mistress of the house, was nodding—she singled out a key from the small ring of them she carried and thrust it in the lock. The door opened into a dark chamber.
    â€œIf you don’t mind going first, Mrs. Falworth,” Dick invited. “You have the torch.”
    Holding it high above her head, she went in. Dick followed curiously, holding on to Vera’s arm. Inwardly she was tense with excitement as to what they might behold—then disappointment settled upon her instead.
    There was nothing much to be seen. Against the far wall stood a very tall old bookcase with a cracked glass front. There were rolls of old linoleum, ancient chairs from which the stuffing has burst, bits of matting, bottoms from fireplaces, a rusty old coke stove—in a word, junk.
    Dick raised an eyebrow at Vera and she shrugged helplessly. Where she had seen—or thought she had seen—machinery, the night before, there was now nothing but a plain flagged floor.
    â€œDo you think it would prove suitable for a darkroom, sir?” Mrs. Falworth asked Dick impassively.
    â€œYes—I think so. Thanks for showing it to me.”
    The woman returned with them into the main cellar, locking the door behind her. Then, holding the smoky torch, she led the way up the stone steps.
    â€œYou will wish to see the servants’ quarters and the other rooms, sir?”
    â€œI don’t think I’ll need to bother,” Dick answered. “I know what the bedrooms are like, and the servants’ quarters don’t interest me. I’ll be seeing the library anyway since I’m going in to choose a book.”
    â€œVery good, sir.” They had come to the head of the basement steps. Mrs. Falworth turned and locked the door leading below. Her expression clearly asked if she were still needed.
    Vera said, “Thank you, Mrs. Falworth.”
    The woman turned and went without a word. Dick gazed after her black-clad figure and then rubbed the back of his head.
    â€œDidn’t squeeze much juice out of that, did we?” he muttered.
    â€œI don’t understand it,” Vera declared, baffled. “I know I saw some kind of machinery and also heard a swishing noise like water being disturbed with a stick or