When Churchyards Yawn

It was on Wednesday Riggs told us the story of his connection with some
incidents that had been previously unexplained. Halsey had been gone
since the Friday night before, and with the passage of each day I felt
that his chances were lessening. I knew well enough that he might be
carried thousands of miles in the box-car, locked in, perhaps, without
water or food. I had read of cases where bodies had been found locked
in cars on isolated sidings in the west, and my spirits went down with
every hour.

His recovery was destined to be almost as sudden as his disappearance,
and was due directly to the tramp Alex had brought to Sunnyside. It
seems the man was grateful for his release, and when he learned some
thing of Halsey's whereabouts from another member of his
fraternity--for it is a fraternity--he was prompt in letting us know.

On Wednesday evening Mr. Jamieson, who had been down at the Armstrong
house trying to see Louise--and failing--was met near the gate at
Sunnyside by an individual precisely as repulsive and unkempt as the
one Alex had captured. The man knew the detective, and he gave him a
piece of dirty paper, on which was scrawled the words--"He's at City
Hospital, Johnsville." The tramp who brought the paper pretended to
know nothing, except this: the paper had been passed along from a
"hobo" in Johnsville, who seemed to know the information would be
valuable to us.

Again the long distance telephone came into requisition. Mr. Jamieson
called the hospital, while we crowded around him. And when there was
no longer any doubt that it was Halsey, and that he would probably
recover, we all laughed and cried together. I am sure I kissed Liddy,
and I have had terrible moments since when I seem to remember kissing
Mr. Jamieson, too, in the excitement.