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came near him, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.
    It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded.
    He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved.
    ``I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?'' said Scrooge.
    The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.
    ``You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,'' Scrooge pursued. ``Is that so, Spirit?''
    The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head.
    That was the only answer he received.
     
    I continued with the book until I got to the end.
    “That’s such a nice story,” I commented as I set the book aside.
    “I see you brought another book.” Pottage looked hungrily at the book I’d carried with me.
    “I did, but before we begin another book I think we need to talk.”
    “About what?” Pottage asked.
    “About the Bayview Apartments. You promised to at least consider other options to evicting the tenants if I came back to finish the story,” I reminded him.
    “And I’ve done as I promised,” Pottage assured me.
    “And…?” I encouraged.
    “And there’s no other reasonable option. Now, start the second book.”
    I stood up and faced the man, hoping my height advantage over his sitting form would make a difference. “I can’t believe you’re unable to come up with any other alternative.”
    “You saw the estimate for fixing up the units. What would you suggest?”
    “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I do know that, if your reputation is correct, you have more money than you’ll ever be able to spend. Perhaps you can fix up the building and let the tenants stay out of the goodness of your heart.”
    “You’re asking me to do this huge thing for the tenants of that building, yet what have any of them ever done for me? What has anyone ever done for me?”
    I frowned. “How about if I continue to read to you? I can come back every Monday.”
    “I would enjoy that, but we’re talking about more than a hundred thousand dollars,” Pottage pointed out.
    I guess the man had a point.
    “Although, there is something else you can do for me that might be worth that amount of money.”
    I smiled. “What? I’ll do anything.”
    “You can help me find out what became of my son.”
    I hesitated. Find his son? Was he kidding? He had a serious look on his face, so I had to assume he was serious in making his request.
    “You want me to find your son?” I asked. “He’s been missing for a very long time. How am I supposed to find him?”
    “I have no idea, but Ebenezer seems to think you’re the one to help us. In fact, he’s quite insistent on it. Will you do it?”
    I looked at the cat and hesitated. It did seem that we were linked in some way, and cats had helped me solve mysteries equally as impossible as this in the past. “If I help you figure out what happened to your son you’ll let the tenants stay?”
    “I’ll do better than that. I’ll fix up the building and deed it to the residents. Will you help me?”
    “I’ll try.”
    Balthazar Pottage smiled.
    “Do you have any idea where I should start?” I asked.
    He stood up. “Come with me.”
    The man led me to a room toward the end of the hall that looked to be used for storage. He walked over to a box and instructed me to bring it back to the sitting room. I set the box on the table and Pottage took off the top.
    “Contained in this box is everything I’ve collected over the