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Bold…Face。 He was accustomed to remark that 〃the fellow who writes the
Packard ads has Ralph Waldo Emerson skinned three ways from the Jack。〃
Yet much must be forgiven this young man for his love of O。 Henry。 He
knew； what many other happy souls have found； that O。 Henry is one of
those rare and gifted tellers of tales who can be read at all times。 No
matter how weary； how depressed； how shaken in morale； one can always
find enjoyment in that master romancer of the Cabarabian Nights。 〃Don't
talk to me of Dickens' Christmas Stories；〃 Aubrey said to himself；
recalling his adventure in Brooklyn。 〃I'll bet O。 Henry's Gift of the Magi
beats anything Dick ever laid pen to。 What a shame he died without
finishing that Christmas story in Rolling Stones！ I wish some boss writer
like Irvin Cobb or Edna Ferber would take a hand at finishing it。 If I were
an editor I'd hire someone to wind up that yarn。 It's a crime to have a good
story like that lying around half written。〃
He was sitting in a soft wreath of cigarette smoke when his landlady
came in with the morning paper。
〃Thought you might like to see the Times； Mr。 Gilbert；〃 she said。 〃I
knew you'd been too sick to go out and buy one。 I see the President's
going to sail on Wednesday。〃
Aubrey threaded his way through the news with the practiced eye of
one who knows what interests him。 Then； by force of habit； he carefully
scanned the advertising pages。 A notice in the HELP WANTED columns
leaped out at him。
WANTEDFor temporary employment at Hotel Octagon； 3 chefs； 3
experienced cooks； 20 waiters。 Apply chef's office； 11 P。M。 Tuesday。
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
〃Hum；〃 he thought。 〃I suppose； to take the place of those fellows
who are going to sail on the George Washington to cook for Mr。 Wilson。
That's a grand ad for the Octagon； having their kitchen staff chosen for the
President's trip。 Gee； I wonder why they don't play that up in some real
space？ Maybe I can place some copy for them along that line。〃
An idea suddenly occurred to him； and he went over to the chair where
he had thrown his overcoat the night before。 From the pocket he took out
the cover of Carlyle's Cromwell； and looked at it carefully。
〃I wonder what the jinx is on this book？〃 he thought。 〃It's a queer
thing the way that fellow trailed me last nightthen my finding this in the
drug store； and getting that crack on the bean。 I wonder if that
neighbourhood is a safe place for a girl to work in？〃
He paced up and down the room； forgetting the pain in his head。
〃Maybe I ought to tip the police off about this business；〃 he thought。
〃It looks wrong to me。 But I have a hankering to work the thing out on
my own。 I'd have a wonderful stand…in with old man Chapman if I saved
that girl from anything。 。 。 。 I've heard of gangs of kidnappers。 。 。 。 No； I
don't like the looks of things a little bit。 I think that bookseller is half
cracked； anyway。 He doesn't believe in advertising！ The idea of
Chapman trusting his daughter in a place like that〃
The thought of playing knight errant to something more personal and
romantic than an advertising account was irresistible。 〃I'll slip over to
Brooklyn as soon as it gets dark this evening；〃 he said to himself。 〃I
ought to be able to get a room somewhere along that street； where I can
watch that bookshop without being seen； and find out what's haunting it。
I've got that old 。22 popgun of mine that I used to use up at camp。 I'll
take it along。 I'd like to know more about Weintraub's drug store； too。 I
didn't fancy the map of Herr Weintraub； not at all。 To tell the truth； I had
no idea old man Carlyle would get mixed up in anything as interesting as
this。〃
He found a romantic exhilaration in packing a handbag。 Pyjamas；
hairbrushes； toothbrush； toothpaste（〃What an ad it would be for the
Chinese Paste people；〃 he thought； 〃if they knew I was taking a tube of
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
their stuff on this adventure！〃） his 。22 revolver； a small green box of
cartridges of the size commonly used for squirrel…shooting； a volume of O。
Henry； a safety razor and adjuncts； a pad of writing paper。 。 。 。 At least
six nationally advertised articles； he said to himself； enumerating his kit。
He locked his bag； dressed； and went downstairs for lunch。 After lunch he
lay down for a rest； as his head was still very painful。 But he was not able
to sleep。 The thought of Titania Chapman's blue eyes and gallant little
figure came between him and slumber。 He could not shake off the
conviction that some peril was hanging over her。 Again and again he
looked at his watch； rebuking the lagging dusk。 At half…past four he set off
for the subway。 Half…way down Thirty…third Street a thought struck him。
He returned to his room； got out a pair of opera glasses from his trunk； and
put them in his bag。
It was blue twilight when he reached Gissing Street。 The block
between Wordsworth Avenue and Hazlitt Street is peculiar in that on one
sidethe side where the Haunted Bookshop stands the old brownstone
dwellings have mostly been replaced by small shops of a bright； lively
character。 At the Wordsworth Avenue corner； where the L swings round
in a lofty roaring curve； stands Weintraub's drug store； below it； on the
western side； a succession of shining windows beacon through the evening。
Delicatessen shops with their appetizing medley of cooked and pickled
meats； dried fruits； cheeses； and bright coloured jars of preserves； small
modistes with generously contoured wax busts of coiffured ladies； lunch
rooms with the day's menu typed and pasted on the outer pane； a French
rotisserie where chickens turn hissing on the spits before a tall oven of
rosy coals； florists； tobacconists； fruit…dealers； and a Greek candy…shop
with a long soda fountain shining with onyx marble and coloured glass
lamps and nickel tanks of hot chocolate； a stationery shop； now stuffed for