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Smith。 At any rate （he felt sure）； it was some experienced habitue of
lodgings； who knew that about five thirty in the afternoon is the best time
for a bath before cooking supper and the homecoming ablutions of other
tenants have exhausted the hot water boiler。
They climbed one more flight。 The room was small； occupying half
the third…floor frontage。 A large window opened onto the street； giving a
plain view of the bookshop and the other houses across the way。 A wash…
stand stood modestly inside a large cupboard。 Over the mantel was the
familiar pictureusually； however； reserved for the fourth floor backof a
young lady having her shoes shined by a ribald small boy。
Aubrey was delighted。 〃This is fine；〃 he said。 〃Here's a week in
advance。〃
Mrs。 Schiller was almost disconcerted by the rapidity of the
transaction。 She preferred to solemnize the reception of a new lodger by a
little more talkremarks about the weather； the difficulty of getting 〃help；〃
the young women guests who empty tea…leaves down wash…basin pipes；
and so on。 All this sort of gossip； apparently aimless； has a very real
purpose： it enables the defenceless landlady to size up the stranger who
comes to prey upon her。 She had hardly had a good look at this
gentleman； nor even knew his name； and here he had paid a week's rent
and was already installed。
Aubrey divined the cause of her hesitation； and gave her his business
card。
〃All right； Mr。 Gilbert；〃 she said。 〃I'll send up the girl with some
clean towels and a latchkey。〃
Aubrey sat down in a rocking chair by the window； tucked the muslin
curtain to one side； and looked out upon the bright channel of Gissing
Street。 He was full of the exhilaration that springs from any change of
abode； but his romantic satisfaction in being so close to the adorable
Titania was somewhat marred by a sense of absurdity； which is feared by
young men more than wounds and death。 He could see the lighted
windows of the Haunted Bookshop quite plainly； but he could not think of
any adequate excuse for going over there。 And already he realized that to
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
be near Miss Chapman was not at all the consolation he had expected it
would be。 He had a powerful desire to see her。 He turned off the gas；
lit his pipe； opened the window； and focussed the opera glasses on the
door of the bookshop。 It brought the place tantalizingly near。 He could
see the table at the front of the shop； Roger's bulletin board under the
electric light； and one or two nondescript customers gleaning along the
shelves。 Then something bounded violently under the third button of his
shirt。 There she was！ In the bright； prismatic little circle of the lenses he
could see Titania。 Heavenly creature； in her white V…necked blouse and
brown skirt； there she was looking at a book。 He saw her put out one arm
and caught the twinkle of her wrist…watch。 In the startling familiarity of
the magnifying glass he could see her bright； unconscious face； the merry
profile of her cheek and chin。 。 。 。 〃The idea of that girl working in a
second…hand bookstore！〃 he exclaimed。 〃It's positive sacrilege！ Old
man Chapman must be crazy。〃
He took out his pyjamas and threw them on the bed； put his toothbrush
and razor on the wash…basin； laid hairbrushes and O。 Henry on the bureau。
Feeling rather serio…comic he loaded his small revolver and hipped it。 It
was six o'clock； and he wound his watch。 He was a little uncertain what to
do： whether to keep a vigil at the window with the opera glasses； or go
down in the street where he could watch the bookshop more nearly。 In
the excitement of the adventure he had forgotten all about the cut on his
scalp； and felt quite chipper。 In leaving Madison Avenue he had
attempted to excuse the preposterousness of his excursion by thinking that
a quiet week…end in Brooklyn would give him an opportunity to jot down
some tentative ideas for Daintybits advertising copy which he planned to
submit to his chief on Monday。 But now that he was here he felt the
impossibility of attacking any such humdrum task。 How could he sit down
in cold blood to devise any 〃attention…compelling〃 lay…outs for Daintybits
Tapioca and Chapman's Cherished Saratoga Chips； when the daintiest bit
of all was only a few yards away？ For the first time was made plain to him
the amazing power of young women to interfere with the legitimate
commerce of the world。 He did get so far as to take out his pad of writing
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
paper and jot down
CHAPMAN'S CHERISHED CHIPS
These delicate wafers； crisped by a secret process； cherish in their
unique tang and flavour all the life…giving nutriment that has made the
potato the King of VegetablesBut the face of Miss Titania kept coming
between his hand and brain。 Of what avail to flood the world with
Chapman Chips if the girl herself should come to any harm？ 〃Was this the
face that launched a thousand chips？〃 he murmured； and for an instant
wished he had brought The Oxford Book of English Verse instead of O。
Henry。
A tap sounded at his door； and Mrs。 Schiller appeared。 〃Telephone for
you； Mr。 Gilbert；〃 she said。
〃For ME？〃 said Aubrey in amazement。 How could it be for him； he
thought； for no one knew he was there。
〃The party on the wire asked to speak to the gentleman who arrived
about half an hour ago； and I guess you must be the one he means。〃
〃Did he say who he is？〃 asked Aubrey。
〃No； sir。〃
For a moment Aubrey thought of refusing to answer the call。 Then it
occurred to him that this would arouse Mrs。 Schiller's suspicions。 He ran
down to the telephone； which stood under the stairs in the front hall。
〃Hello；〃 he said。
〃Is this the new guest？〃 said a voicea deep； gargling kind of voice。
〃Yes；〃 said Aubrey。
〃Is this the gentleman that arrived half an hour ago with a handbag？〃
〃Yes； who are you？〃
〃I'm a friend；〃 said the voice； 〃I wish you well。〃
〃How do you do； friend and wellwisher；〃 said Aubrey genially。
〃I schust want to warn you that Gissing Street is not healthy for you；〃
said the voice。
〃Is that so？〃 said Aubrey sharply。 〃Who are you？〃
〃I am a friend；〃 buzzed the receiver。 There was a harsh； bass note in
the voice that made the diaphragm at Aubrey's ear vibrate tinnily。 Aubrey
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grew angry。
〃Well； Herr Freund；〃 he said； 〃if you're the wellwisher I met on the
Bridge last night； watch your step。 I've got your number。〃
There was a pause。 Then the other repeated； ponderously； 〃I am a
friend。 Gissing Street is not healthy for you。〃 There was a click； and he
had rung off。
Aubrey was a good deal perplexed。 He returned to his room； and sat
in the dark by the window； smoking a pipe and thinking； with his eyes on
the bookshop。
There was no longer any doubt in his mind that something sinister was
afoot。 He reviewed in memory the events of the past few days。
It was on Monday that a bookloving friend had first told him of the
existence of the shop on Gissing Street。 On Tuesday evening he had
gone round to visit the place； and had stayed to supper with Mr。 Mifflin。
On Wednesday and Thursday he had been busy at the office； and the idea
of an intensive Daintybit campaign in Brooklyn had occurred to him。 On
Friday he had dined with Mr。 Chapman； and had run into a curious string
of coincidences。 He tabulated them：
（1） The Lost ad in the Times on Friday morning。
（2） The chef in the elevator carrying the book that w