en charge of the unconscious Chinaman, whom he was frisking
for weapons. Halfway back to the hedge Bill stumbled on something,
picked it up, and dropped it again with a disgusted grunt.

"Nothing but a Chinaboy's keister," he said contemptuously. "Not much
to that. Why in blazes did he run so?"

"Because you were shooting him up, I'd say," Jim Edwards suggested.

"Naw. Commenced to run before we turned loose on him," Bill protested.

"Hello!" I had pounced on the unbelievable thing, and called to Edwards
for his light. "Worth, here's your eight-hundred-thousand-dollar
suitcase!"

"That!" he followed along, dusting himself off, trying out his joints.
"Oh, yes. I left it in my closet, and it disappeared. Told you of it at
the time, didn't I, Jerry?"

"You did not," I sputtered, down on my knees, working away at the
catches. "You never told me anything that would be of any use to us. If
this thing disappeared, I suppose Vandeman stole it to get a piece of
evidence in the Clayte case out of the way."

"Likely." Worth turned, with no further interest, and started toward his
own gate.

"Hi! Come back here," I yelled after him. For the lock gave at that
moment; there, under the pale circle of the electric torch, lay
Clayte-Vandeman's loot!

"My gosh!" mumbled Capehart. "I didn't suppose there was so much money
in the known world."

Eddie Hughes, breathing hard; Jim Edwards, bending to hold the torch;
Capehart, stooping, blunt hands spread on knees, goggle-eyed; my own
fingers shaking as I dragged out my list and attempted to sort through
the stuff--not one of us but felt the thrill of that great fortune
tumbled down there in the open road in the empty night.

But Worth delayed reluctantly at the edge of the shadows, looking with
impatience across his shoulder, eager to be on--to get to Barbara. Yet I
wanted that suitcase to go into the house in his hand; wanted him to be
able to tell his girl that she'd made him a winner in the gamble and the
long chase. Roughly assured that only a few thousands had been used by
Vandeman, I stuck the handles into his fist and trailed along after his
quick strides. Edwards followed me. Laura Bowman opened the door to us;
she stopped Edwards on the porch.

And then I saw my children meet. I hadn't meant to; but after all, what
matter? They didn't know I was on earth. Creation had resolved itself,
for them, into the one man, the one woman.

The suitcase thumped unregarded on the f