After shivering for more than half an hour beneath a tree across the street from Mrs. Chester’s home, Sleuth Piper finally decided to make a move. Since seeking the hiding shelter of that tree he had seen four boys ascend the widow’s steps, ring the bell and obtain admission. It was now some time since the last one had disappeared within the house, and Piper believed no more were to follow.

There was a light in Osgood’s room on the second floor, but the shades were closely drawn at the windows. Sleuth would have given much had he been able to look through those windows, but being prevented from doing so, he had decided on a bold move.

Swiftly crossing the road, he softly mounted the steps and hastily gave a single ring at the bell. After a few moments the summons was answered by a maid, and the boy boldly entered the moment the door swung open.

“I’m to see Osgood,” he said in a low tone. “I’m a little late. I presume the other fellows are ahead of me?”

“Mr. Osgood has several friends with him in his room,” said the girl. “He’s expecting you, isn’t he?”

“Why, sure,” returned Piper, although even in his “professional capacity” his conscience was troubled by the falsehood, which surely was something quite surprising in a detective.

By the muffled hall light the boy deliberately mounted the carpeted stairs. He heard the maid retire, and the sound of the door closing behind her was most gratifying to his ears.

There was little trouble in finding the door of Osgood’s room, for from behind it came the subdued murmur of voices; and, listening, Piper heard at intervals a queer, soft, irregular clicking sound. But when he would have taken a peep through the keyhole, he was much disappointed to find it either plugged or covered on the inside by something that baffled him.

“And that proves there’s something queer going on,” he whispered to himself. “They’re not talking loud, either; they’re keeping their voices down. A lot of fellows who get together and chat free and easy don’t bother to talk that way. Wish I could hear something more.”

After a time, growing desperate through the intensity of his increasing curiosity, he placed his hand gently on the knob of the door with his ear close to the panel, and, when the talk seemed to be a bit more general inside, he softly and slowly turned the knob.

The door was locked!

“That settles it,” he mentally exclaimed. “There’s something off color taking place here.”

Still with the utmost caution, he permitted the spring slowly to force the catch back into place and removed his hand from the knob.

“There’s just one thing to do now,” he decided; “I’ve got to put on a bold front. It’s the only play for me to make.”

Lifting his hand, he knocked softly upon the door.

Immediately the hum of voices ceased, and after a little Sleuth fancied he heard some one whisper within the room.

He knocked again.

There was the sound of a person stirring, and the key turned in the lock. The door was opened the tiniest crack, and the voice of Osgood asked:

“Who is it? What’s wanted?”

“Hello, Ned,” called Sleuth, as he again grasped the knob and gave the door a push which flung it wide open. “Thought I’d come round for a little call this—— Why, you’ve got company! Excuse me.”

The scene beheld by Piper’s eyes caused them to grow unusually big and round. Within the room four boys remained seated around a table covered by a green cloth and lighted by a shaded suspension lamp. On that table were red, white and blue poker chips and some cards. In each fellow’s hand were also the cards which he had held when play had been interrupted by Sleuth’s knock. The young gamesters looked somewhat startled, an expression which gave way to annoyance as they recognized the unwelcome caller.

“How the dickens did you get into the house?” exclaimed Osgood, in a manner that was, for him, unusually rude.

“Why,” returned Sleuth instantly, “I just said I came round to make you a little call. But if I’m not welcome——”

“Old Pipe always has his nose into everything,” laughed Chipper Cooper, one of the quartet at the table. “As long as he’s here to call, bring him in and let him do his calling in the game.”

The other three were Charley Shultz, Roy Hooker and Phil Springer. Shultz was scowling darkly and Hooker did not seem exactly pleased; but, like Cooper, Springer appeared to accept the situation good-naturedly.

“Bub-bub-bet he hasn’t any coin with him,” said Phil.

“Come in, Billy,” invited Osgood. “Your unexpected appearance rather upset us. I thought it might be Mrs. Chester or the maid, although we haven’t been making any noise.”

Piper was only too willing to accept the invitation. “You seem to be having a rather nice little game,” he said, as he entered the room and Osgood relocked the door. “What’s the limit?”

“Oh, we’re just playing for amusement,” assured the host. “It’s nothing but penny-ante, with a ten-cent limit; just enough to make it interesting, you know. Do you play?”

Now one of Sleuth’s weaknesses was cards, although his limited finances had never allowed him to play much for money. On this particular occasion, however, he happened to have in his pocket between two and three dollars, and, although he protested that he did not wish to butt in, he was more than willing to take a hand.

“It will get me on the inside with this bunch,” he thought, “and if there’s anything going on likely I’ll catch a hint of it.” So, to the surprise of Springer, he displayed his money, announcing that a ten-cent limit just suited him. A place was made for him between Osgood and Springer, and he sat down at the table.

“We’ll play this hand off,” said Ned; “you can come in on the next. You’re dealing, Cooper, and the pot is all level. I’ll take three cards.”

When that hand was played off Piper was given a dollar’s worth of chips, together with some advice about maintaining silence concerning what was taking place in Osgood’s room.

“The people in this village are so straightlaced and narrow,” said Ned blandly, “that they would regard a little game of this sort, played merely for amusement, as we play it, as something bordering on the criminal. I’m sure you won’t say a word about it, Piper.”

“Better impress it on him harder than that,” broke in Shultz offensively. “I’m not so sure.”

“What do you take me for?” exclaimed Piper, with a touch of indignation. “I’m playing in this game, ain’t I? Don’t I know what folks around here are? Think I’d take a hand and then go out and shoot my face off?”

“He thinks,” explained Osgood smoothly, “that you might let a careless word drop among the fellows, not realizing that they would be likely to spread it. That’s the way such things leak out; a fellow tells a friend under pledge of secrecy, and the friend tells another, and soon the secret is public property. We’ve taken pains to keep our little social gatherings very quiet.”

Sleuth was quite aware of this, and their efforts to keep the matter quiet had awakened his natural suspicions and led him to that room.

“If I’m fool enough to blow about it after playing,” said he, “any one or the whole of you will have the liberty to kick me good and hard. I think I can keep a secret when it’s necessary.”

“Sleuthy won’t pup-pup-peach when he talks like that,” said Springer. “Go on with the gug-game.”

Even though it seemed that he had done some bad guessing regarding the object of these quiet meetings in Osgood’s rooms, Piper was, after the first throb of disappointment, rather glad of it; for, in a way, he was not very popular with the boys of Oakdale. At one time they had regarded his aspirations to become a detective with considerable amusement and had taken no little pleasure in joshing him. But of late his ability to uncover secrets and lay bare unpleasant facts concerning people with whom he came in contact had changed ridicule to a certain respect that was not wholly free from apprehension, causing him to be avoided.

In desiring companionship and friends, Piper was perfectly normal, and he had felt the coldness and slights of his fellows. Even Nelson, although regarding him valuable as an outfielder on the nine, had seemed to hold him at a distance. And so, when the turn of affairs and the singular behavior of the Osgood clique had seemed to point to scheming of some sort, Sleuth had not hesitated to make a bid for Jack’s appreciation and gratitude by offering to discover and reveal what crookedness those chaps were planning.

It now appeared that he had been misled in his reasoning, for the secrecy of the boys who did not wish it generally known that they were playing poker seemed, in the light of his discovery, perfectly natural and excusable.

As Ned skilfully rippled the cards, passed them to Cooper to cut and began dealing, Sleuth sat back on his chair, feeling that Fate had served him a good turn by getting him in with this little gathering of “sports.” In these days nearly every fellow who really amounted to anything played cards, and it was surely far more interesting and shocking to play poker for pennies and dimes than to play it for matches or beans.

The room was rather warm, and both Shultz and Hooker were in their shirt-sleeves. Osgood wore a handsome house coat, with a collar, lapels and cuffs of purple plush. He was really a fine-looking chap, with his clean-cut face and his curly dark hair, a lock of which had strayed over his forehead. His hands were shapely and well formed, and a rich seal ring adorned the one that held the pack of cards. He had lighted a fresh cigarette. Shultz was smoking a cigar. A thin haze of blueish tobacco smoke floated like incense in the room.

Sleuth’s swift appraising eyes had taken in the general appearance of that room as it could dimly be seen beyond the circle of light thrown over the table by the shaded hanging lamp. The furnishings were unusually excellent. Beneath his feet there was a thick carpet, soft and pleasant to the tread. There was a bookcase, a couch piled with cushions, and heavy portieres hung parted at the entrance to the adjoining bedroom. There were pictures on the walls and many photographs and knick-knacks belonging to Osgood upon the old-fashioned marble mantel, which had been hidden by a drapery. There were likewise banners, boxing-gloves, dumb-bells and a tennis-racket, disposed in various ways with a seeming carelessness that was really effective. Above the mantel hung some dim old portraits, which Sleuth immediately fancied must be the pictures of Osgood’s titled ancestors.

“It’s great,” Piper thought. “It was a streak of luck that threw me in with this bunch. I’ll be one of the gang after this.”

He was aroused by the unpleasant voice of Shultz. “Come, wake up there, Vidocq; you haven’t even anted. Shove out a white chip before you look at your cards.”