hey were "standing pat," as the old detective declared in
disgust.

"That proves one thing," remarked the criminologist. "They are not local
products, or they would have friends other than their chief on whom to
call for bail or aid. Their whole work centers on him. I think I will
send a code message to this man Phil this afternoon or evening. He may
be able to read it, and if he does, it may assist us. I wish you would
have a man call on Miss Marigold at the California Hotel, so that she
may know his face. Then keep him covering her for they are apt to get
suspicious of her and try to quiet her. She is a game and fearless girl,
but she is no match for this gang."

Cronin assigned one of the men immediately, and the sleuth took up a
note of introduction to Helene, in which Monty explained the need for
his watch.

Shirley then repaired to the club house to await his dinner guest. He
was thoughtful about the alacrity of Warren to dine with him. There was
more to this assumed friendliness than the mere desire to talk to him.

"I wonder if he wants to keep me occupied for some certain reason?"
pondered the club man. "Helene is protected now by a silent watcher. The
members of the Lobster Club are all out of the city. Van Cleft is safe
on the ocean. They must be laying a trap. I wonder where that trap would
be?"

As he looked about his rooms he realized that many important pieces of
evidence were locked up in his chests and the small safe. His bedroom,
in the uppermost floor of the club building, was in a quiet and less
frequented part of the house. Shirley summoned one of the shrewd
Japanese valets who worked on the dormitory floors of the building.

"Chen," he began. "Are you a good fighter?"

The Mongolian grinned characteristically. Shirley took out a bill, and
handed it to the little fellow.

"I have reason to think some one may come into my rooms to-night, while
I am busy downstairs. How would you like to lock yourself on the inside
of my clothes closet, and wait? The air is not very good, but with this
ten dollars you could take a nice ride in the country to-morrow, and get
lots of good oxygen in your lungs to make up for it."

Chen was a willing little self-jailer. Shirley handed him his own
revolver, and the slant eyes sparkled with glee at the opportunity for
some excitement. Americans may carp at the curious manners and alleged
shortcomings of the Oriental, but personal fear does not seem to be in
the c