Old as the house was, there was no creaking of boards underfoot, and, strain my ears as I would, not the slightest sound reached me.
The first doors I came to were ajar, but the moon was at the back of the house, and I was obliged to enter each apartment, and flash my light into the corners to make sure they were vacant.

These were medium-sized bedrooms, comfortably furnished, although containing nothing new.

Only one exhibited any evidence of late occupancy, being in considerable disorder, the bed unmade, some discarded garments strewn about the floor.

I prowled about within this room for some time, even invading the closet, but discovered nothing more suspicious than a loaded revolver in a bureau drawer, together with some torn letters, and an old newspaper.

This was a local sheet, containing a notice of the death of Judge Henley, which I took time to read.