Helene. Her
eyes sparkled, as she said: "Ah, those symptoms resemble the ones you
told me which came from that amo-amas-amat-citron, or whatever it was."

"Not quite such a loving lemon, Miss Marigold," he chuckled. "Amyl
nitrite. The same soothing syrup which quieted our would-be robbers on
Sixth Avenue, that night when we left his apartment. It will wear off
in about three hours. I had a little glass container folded in my own
handkerchief, which I put in his overcoat pocket as a parting souvenir,
crushing it as I did so. I reasoned that undue anxiety which he
displayed might cause him to mop his brow, close to that student-duel
scar. One smell of the chemical on that handkerchief, in the quantity
which I gave, was enough to quiet his worries. Now for the Somerset
Apartment."

He looked at his watch.

"It is eight fifteen. I want you to telephone up to Warren's apartment
exactly at ten o'clock. Tell them--there should be a them, that I have
been overcome in your apartment, and that they are the only people who
can help you, or who know you. I believe that the idea of finding me
unconscious, and getting me away will bring any and all of his friends
who may be there. If Taylor is there with others, he will hardly leave
them in the place when he goes. What I want is to be sure that the coast
is cleared of people at that hour. Then I will make an investigation
into his papers and other matters of interest. Can I count on you?"

A reproachful pouting of the scarlet lips was the only answer. Shirley
left, this time hurrying uptown to a certain engine-house, whose fire
captain he had known quite well in the old reportorial days.

It was beginning to snow once more. And as Shirley slipped out of the
engine-house, carrying a scaling ladder which he had borrowed after much
persuasion from his good-natured friend, he thanked his luck for this
natural veiling of the night, to baffle eyes too curious about the
campaign he had planned. He knew the posts of the policemen on this
street, and sedulously avoided them.

The Warren apartment faced the Eastern side of the structure, and when
he reached the front of the Somerset, he sought for a way in which
to use his implement. A scaling ladder, it may be explained to the
uninitiated, is about eight feet long--a single fire-proof bar, on which
are short cross-pieces. At one end is a curiously curving serrated hook,
which is used for grappling on the sills of windows or ledges above