Courage vanished.

It might be some dreadful tramp hiding and trying to drive me up-stairs, so he could get the silver, and he would gladly murder me for ten cents-- "Tom," I cried.

"Tom, come here." But Tom, my six-footer factotum, made no response.
I could stand it no longer--the portiere seemed fairly alive, and I rushed out to the kitchen where Ellen sat reading the Ledger, deep in the horrors of The Forsaken Inn.

"Ellen, I'm ashamed, but I'm really frightened.

I do believe somebody is in that horrid dark room, or in the cellar, and where is Tom?
"Bedad, Miss, and you've frightened the heart right out o' me.