by Marianne Ferguson
I got off the train at the Harrisonville Railroad Station, filled with
mixed feelings, for I was to visit the world renowned detective, Jules
de Grandin, and Dr. Trowbridge. As I walked uncertainly up the street,
I inquired of a policeman, who directed me to Jules de Grandin's
house.
I am afraid that I knocked at the door somewhat timidly, and I soon
heard footsteps coming down the hall. The door opened, and there stood
a tall, dark man.
"Is this where Mr. de Grandin lives?" I asked rather shakily, for I
had been anticipating this eventful visit for several months, during
which time I had reacted this scene many times.
"Yes," the man replied. "I am Dr. Trowbridge. Will you please come
in?"
I entered, just as a voice from within called out, "Who was it, Friend
Trowbridge?"
We entered a large, cheery room, and seated in a deep study chair, I
saw Jules de Grandin, his blond hair sleek and shining. He looked up
from the magazine had been reading, and seeing me, arose, and stroking
his blond mustache, said, "What can we do for you, my dear young
lady?"
Suddenly, my knees seemed to turn to water. "Mr. de Grandin," I
managed to whisper, "I have always wanted to see you in person; I hope
you will forgive my intrusion."
Jules de Grandin waved me to a seat with his long, artistic hand, and
seeing a silver topped walking stick in the corner, I asked, "Is that
the famous walking stick which vanquished the werewolf in 'The Thing
in the Fog'?"
"Eh, bien, of a truth, my young friend," he admitted, "if it were not
for the concealed sword in the center, I would have been in too many
tight places for comfort."
"Mr. de Grandin, will you please tell how many years you have been
interested in this line of investigation?" I asked.
"O, tiens, my young lady, I have been actively engaged for the past
eight years in this thrilling occupation."
"I am sorry that I weren't acquainted with your adventures right from
the start," I confessed. "Weren't you afraid in some of the gruesome
cases such as 'The Bleeding Mummy' and the 'Band of Glory'?"
"Eh, bien," he answered, "my friend, if one allows himself to let fear
enter his heart, he is already defeated, and I know that I have the
Good One in my favor."
"Well, Mr. de Grandin and Dr. Trowbridge, thank you for this
delightful talk," I began, when a blood-curdling moan echoed through
the house. De Grandin, Dr. Trowbridge, and I ran to where the moan
seemed to come from, but nothing was there. I imagine that I must have
turned pale, for Dr. Trowbridge caught hold of my arm and gave me a
glass of water containing some sort of restorative. As I began to feel
better, my color came back and de Grandin said, "My friend, your train
leaves in twenty minutes, so, Friend Trowbridge, get out your car and
take the young lady to the station."
"But how about that moan?" I asked.
"_Mon Dieu!_" he exclaimed, though less excited than would be expected
under the circumstances, "but I, Jules de Grandin, shall soon find
out!"
Gathering up my purse, I arose and gave my hand to de Grandin, then
Dr. Trowbridge took me to the station.
Safely in my compartment, I suddenly realized how tired I was. So,
leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes, I drifted into the land
of dreams--into the realm of deathless visions, where hazy phantasms
of the imagination take one through glorious adventures in which
earthly realities become as nothing.