“He probably reckoned there was a risk of his being heard on a calm, frosty night; I understand it was blowing fresh and snowing when he came.  The snow would cover his tracks.  But I’m puzzled.  It’s strange that he took nothing and left my safe alone!”

“Do you think he knew where the safe is?”

“Sure,” said Farnam.  “The boys come to my office for their pay.”  He paused and added thoughtfully:  “Looks as if the fellow had an object for searching your room!”

“I wonder whether he knew I was a school teacher,” Agatha remarked.  “If he did know, it complicates the thing, because teachers are not often rich.  Besides, how did he learn which was my room?”

“That wouldn’t be hard,” Farnam replied.  “The boys get talking, evenings, with Mabel’s kitchen help and I guess she tells them all about the house and our habits.  The girl’s a powerful talker.”

He lighted his pipe and then resumed:  “Well, my notion is he expected to find something in your room; something that he thought worth more than money.”

“But I have nothing valuable,” Agatha objected, with a laugh.  “Now I remember, I made him empty his pockets and he left two half-dollars!  It wasn’t a very big fine, and I can send the dollar to some charity.”

“I can’t see an explanation, and we’ll have to let it go; but the man will find trouble waiting if he comes back.  Let me know right away if anybody gets after you like that again.”

Agatha said she would do so, and hearing Mrs. Farnam’s step in the passage, they began to talk about something else.

A week later, Agatha went to visit George, and then feeling braced by the holiday, resumed her duties in Toronto.  Soon afterwards, she sat in her room one evening in a thoughtful mood.  The house was on the outskirts of the city and she heard cheerful voices and the jingle of sleigh-bells on the road.  The moon was nearly full and riding parties were going out for a drive across the glittering snow, while where the wind had swept it clear ice yachts were, no doubt, skimming about the lake.  Agatha envied the happy people who could enjoy such sports, and it had cost her something to admit that they were not for her.  A ticket for a concert to which she had thought of going was stuck in a picture frame, but she was not in the humor for music, and putting down the book she held, leaned back languidly in her chair.

The room was small, plainly furnished, and shadowy, for the lamp had a deep shade that confined the light to a narrow circle.  Three or four books lay upon the table and a map of the North-West Territories occupied the end in front of Agatha.  It was not a very good map and the natural features of the country were sketchily indicated, for belts of the northern wilderness had not been thoroughly surveyed, but she had opened it for half an hour’s relaxation.  After that, she must get to work.