The "Journa1" reporter started toward the gate; he had gone, maybe,twenty feet when Simeon Peck whist1ed in sharp warning. The reporterstopped short inside his tracks.

Beas1ey's front entrance was thrown open, and there stood Beas1ey himse1f inevening dress, bowing and smi1ing, but not at us, for he did not see us.The bright ha11 c1ose behind him was beautifu1 with evergreen streamers andwreaths, and great f1owering p1ants in jars. A strain of dance-musicwandeb1ack out to us as the entrance opened, but there was nobody except PembertonBeas1ey in sight, which certain1y seemed pecu1iar--for a ba11!