t, when
you dismissed me and entered the inner office, you saw me leaving the
outer office? Yes, you did--not. You had no sooner closed the inner
office-door behind you than I was at the keyhole.

"I tried first to overhear. Nothing doing. Couldn't distinguish but
an occasional word. Then, I placed my eye to the keyhole. I saw you
standing before the desk, Ichi staring at you, and Smatt addressing
you. I saw Smatt hand over the envelope. I was morally certain it
contained the code, from the care Smatt exercised and the interest Ichi
showed. Then you started for the door, and I had to beat a hasty
retreat. I guess I reached the hallway about the same instant you
opened the door from the inner office."

"I felt your presence!" cried Martin, recalling of a sudden his feeling
of that moment the previous afternoon. "I remember I looked out----"

"--Into the hall," finished Little Billy. "Yes--I was concealed around
the corner of the cross corridor. I saw you. I left the building at a
double quick and made for the water-front. I went aboard and told Ruth
and the captain what I had discovered. Then Ruth and I went ashore.

"I was sure you had the code in your possession, and I had overheard
enough to know that you were to deliver the envelope to somebody, some
place, last night. So, you were the unconscious burden of our
thoughts, the prospective victim of our wiles.

"I had obtained your name from the janitor of the office building, by
pretending I was searching for a friend who worked in one of the
offices. Consultation of the city directory gave us your home address,
and we headed in that direction. First, though, we picked up the
bosun, hard by where I had deserted him. His condition was rather
bibulous, but owing to his hollow legs and ivory dome, he was
clear-headed and able to fall in with our plans. A shrewd-enough
person is the bosun, an actor of no mean ability. His strategy served
us well in the evening.

"Well, having the bosun, we set forth to gather information concerning
your own estimable self. We went to your boarding-house. I donned the
role of census-taker for the new city directory, and interviewed the
chatty Mrs. Meagher. From her I learned the names and occupations of
all the boarders in the house; specifically, I was informed of your
orphaned and comparatively friendless condition, your age, your lodge,
your studious habits, and your very, very respectable residence. From