Haggerty was not only hard of head but shrewd.

So he set about the accomplishment of the second best course, that of minute and particular investigation.
Some one had entered this deserted house: for what?
This, Haggerty must find out.

He was fairly confident that the intruder did not know who had challenged him; on the other hand, there might be lying around some clue to the stranger's identity.
Was there light in the house, fluid in the wires?
If so he would be saved the annoyance of exploring the house by the rather futile aid of the pocket-lamp, which stood in need of a fresh battery.

He searched for the light-button and pressed it, hopefully.

The room, with all its brilliantly decorated antiquities, older than Rome, older than Greece, blinded Haggerty for a space.
"Ain't that like these book chaps ?" Haggerty murmured.