"You and I have got to search this house." The policeman nodded.
"There's no harm in that, sir, anyway." He flashed his lantern around the hall--unfurnished, with paper hanging from the walls.

Then they began to enter the rooms, one by one.

Nowhere was there any sign of occupation.

From floor to floor they passed, in grim silence.

In the front chamber of the attic was a camp bedstead, two or three humble articles of furniture, and a small stove.
"Caretaker's kit," the policeman muttered.