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his eagerness； but at Thirteenth he halted in dismay。 Nowhere could he
see a sign of the little bookseller。 He appealed to the policeman at that
corner； but learned nothing。 Vainly he scoured the block and up and down
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Juniper Street。 It was eleven o'clock； and the streets were thronged。
He cursed the book business in both hemispheres； cursed himself； and
cursed Philadelphia。 Then he went into a tobacconist's and bought a
packet of cigarettes。
For an hour he patrolled up and down Chestnut Street； on both sides of
the way； thinking he might possibly encounter Roger。 At the end of this
time he found himself in front of a newspaper office； and remembered that
an old friend of his was an editorial writer on the staff。 He entered； and
went up in the elevator。
He found his friend in a small grimy den； surrounded by a sea of
papers； smoking a pipe with his feet on the table。 They greeted each other
joyfully。
〃Well； look who's here！〃 cried the facetious journalist。 〃Tamburlaine
the Great； and none other！ What brings you to this distant outpost？〃
Aubrey grinned at the use of his old college nickname。
〃I've come to lunch with you； and borrow enough money to get home
with。〃
〃On Monday？〃 cried the other。 〃Tuesday being the day of stipend in
these quarters？ Nay； say not so！〃
They lunched together at a quiet Italian restaurant； and Aubrey
narrated tersely the adventures of the past few days。 The newspaper man
smoked pensively when the story was concluded。
〃I'd like to see the girl；〃 he said。 〃Tambo； your tale hath the ring of
sincerity。 It is full of sound and fury； but it signifieth something。 You say
your man is a second…hand bookseller？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Then I know where you'll find him。〃
〃Nonsense！〃
〃It's worth trying。 Go up to Leary's； 9 South Ninth。 It's right on this
street。 I'll show you。〃
〃Let's go；〃 said Aubrey promptly。
〃Not only that；〃 said the other； 〃but I'll lend you my last V。 Not for
your sake； but on behalf of the girl。 Just mention my name to her； will
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
you？
〃Right up the block；〃 he pointed as they reached Chestnut Street。 〃No；
I won't come with you； Wilson's speaking to Congress to…day； and there's
big stuff coming over the wire。 So long； old man。 Invite me to the
wedding！〃
Aubrey had no idea what Leary's was； and rather expected it to be a
tavern of some sort。 When he reached the place； however； he saw why
his friend had suggested it as a likely lurking ground for Roger。 It would
be as impossible for any bibliophile to pass this famous second…hand
bookstore as for a woman to go by a wedding party without trying to see
the bride。 Although it was a bleak day； and a snell wind blew down the
street； the pavement counters were lined with people turning over
disordered piles of volumes。 Within； he could see a vista of white shelves；
and the many…coloured tapestry of bindings stretching far away to the rear
of the building。
He entered eagerly； and looked about。 The shop was comfortably
busy； with a number of people browsing。 They seemed normal enough
from behind； but in their eyes he detected the wild； peering glitter of the
bibliomaniac。 Here and there stood members of the staff。 Upon their
features Aubrey discerned the placid and philosophic tranquillity which he
associated with second…hand booksellers all save Mifflin。
He paced through the narrow aisles； scanning the blissful throng of
seekers。 He went down to the educational department in the basement；
up to the medical books in the gallery； even back to the sections of Drama
and Pennsylvania History in the raised quarterdeck at the rear。 There was
no trace of Roger。
At a desk under the stairway he saw a lean； studious； and kindly…
looking bibliosoph； who was poring over an immense catalogue。 An idea
struck him。
〃Have you a copy of Carlyle's Letters and Speeches of Oliver
Cromwell？〃 he asked。
The other looked up。
〃I'm afraid we haven't；〃 he said。 〃Another gentleman was in here
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
asking for it just a few minutes ago。〃
〃Good God！〃 cried Aubrey。 〃Did he get it？〃
This emphasis brought no surprise to the bookseller； who was
accustomed to the oddities of edition hunters。
〃No；〃 he said。 〃We didn't have a copy。 We haven't seen one for a
long time。〃
〃Was he a little bald man with a red beard and bright blue eyes？〃 asked
Aubrey hoarsely。
〃YesMr。 Mifflin of Brooklyn。 Do you know him？〃
〃I should say I do！〃 cried Aubrey。 〃Where has he gone？ I've been
hunting him all over town； the scoundrel！〃
The bookseller； douce man； had seen too many eccentric customers to
be shocked by the vehemence of his questioner。
〃He was here a moment ago；〃 he said gently； and gazed with a mild
interest upon the excited young advertising man。 〃I daresay you'll find
him just outside； in Ludlow Street。〃
〃Where's that？〃
The tall manand I don't see why I should scruple to name him； for it
was Philip Warnerexplained that Ludlow Street was the narrow alley that
runs along one side of Leary's and elbows at right angles behind the shop。
Down the flank of the store； along this narrow little street； run shelves of
books under a penthouse。 It is here that Leary's displays its stock of
ragamuffin ten…centers queer dingy volumes that call to the hearts of
gentle questers。 Along these historic shelves many troubled spirits have
come as near happiness as they are like to get 。 。 。 for after all； happiness
（as the mathematicians might say） lies on a curve； and we approach it only
by asymptote。 。 。 。 The frequenters of this alley call themselves
whimsically The Ludlow Street Business Men's Association； and Charles
Lamb or Eugene Field would have been proud to preside at their annual
dinners； at which the members recount their happiest book…fi