Both the sitting room and the bedroom adjoining were
equipped in military simplicity, with hardly an extra article of
furniture or adornment, chairs, tables, everything of the plainest sort.
Moving first into the bedroom, Carter quickly investigated pillows and
mattress, but in neither place did he find what he sought, evidence of a
secret hiding place. He rummaged for a while through the drawers of two
tables, carefully restoring the contents, but discovering nothing that
aroused his suspicions. The books lying about on the tables and on
shelves he examined one by one, noting their titles, examining their
bindings for hidden pockets, holding them up by their backs and shaking
the leaves. There was nothing there. Lifting the rugs and moving the
furniture about he made a careful survey of the flooring, seeking to
find some panel that might conceal a hiding place. Once or twice in
corners he went so far as to make soundings but apparently the whole
floor was intact. His search in the bath room was equally profitless,
and at last he turned to the clothes press. As he opened the door an
exclamation of amazement burst from his lips.
There, concealed behind some other suits, was the complete outfit of a
British cavalry captain.
"That's one on the Chief," he said to himself.
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