erate caution.

The sound of someone tiptoeing about the room continued--soft, stealthy
movements that, however, no longer possessed for him any terror. A
fury of anger, a species of blood-lust gripped him. Someone had dared
to break into his flat. The situation became intolerable. With one
swift movement he sat up, switched on the electric light, and cocked
his revolver.

An inarticulate sound, half-cry, half-grumble, came from the corner by
the chest of drawers. The back of the head, looking curiously like a
monkish crown, flashed into a face, swathed in what appeared to be
medical bandages, through which was to be seen a pair of eyes in which
there was obvious terror. It was Bindle.

"Hands up, or I shoot! Up, I say."

Up went Bindle's hands.

The Professor did not recognise his own voice. Suddenly he laughed.
The ludicrous expression in Bindle's eyes, the unnatural position in
which he crouched, his having caught a burglar red-handed--it was all
so ridiculous.

Then there came the triumphant sense of victory. The Professor was
calm and collected now, as if the discovery of a burglar in his bedroom
were a thing of nightly occurrence. There seemed nothing strange in
the situation. The things to be done presented themselves in obvious
and logical sequence. He was conscious of the dramatic possibilities
of the situation.

Not so Bindle.

"This comes o' takin' advice of a 'daughter o' the Lord,'" he groaned.
"Wonder wot 'Earty'll say?"

In spite of his situation Bindle grinned.

"Turn round and face the wall, quick!"

It was the Professor's voice that broke in upon Bindle's thoughts. He
obeyed with alacrity and the tonsured scalp reappeared.

Carefully covering with his revolver the unfortunate Bindle, whose
first effort at burglary seemed doomed to end so disastrously,
Professor Conti slipped out of bed and, without removing his eyes from
Bindle's back, sidled towards a small chest at the other side of the
room. This he opened, and from it took a pair of handcuffs, a
"property" of his profession.

"Put your hands behind your back," he ordered with calm decision.

For one brief moment Bindle meditated resistance. He gave a swift
glance over his shoulder; but, seeing the determined look in his
captor's eyes and the glint of the revolver, he thought better of it
and meekly complied.

The handcuffs clicked and Professor Conti smiled grimly.

As he stood gazing at the wall, Bindle's mind