as if he were hypnotized,
puffing and blowing like a porpoise as he struggled to slip the linen
covers over the chairs. Gladwin worked at top speed, too; and just as
he was covering the great chest he gave a start and held up his hand.

"Sh!" he whispered. "There's a motor stopping outside. You go down
into the kitchen and be ready to come up if you hear me whistle."

"But ye'll promise yez won't leave the house with them clothes,"
gasped Phelan.

"No, no--certainly not. Be quick now--I'll switch off this light and
step out on the balcony. Close that door tight after you and be sure
you switch out the lights in the back hall."

Gladwin only waited for the disappearance of Phelan and the soft
closing of the door when he plunged the room into darkness. He could
hear the click of a key in the front door lock as he groped his way to
the window curtains and pressed back into the semi-circular recess
that led out onto a window balcony. As he did so he unlatched the
heavily grilled balcony window, drew out his penknife and slit a
peephole in the curtain.

CHAPTER XXVI.

GLADWIN MEETS HIMSELF.

Standing as stiff and immovable as if he had been turned to stone,
Travers Gladwin peered with one eye through the narrow aperture he had
slashed in the heavy brocade portiere. Still gazing into inky darkness
he could hear the cautious tread of two persons. His senses told him
that one of the visitors was a heavy, sure-footed man and that the
other was of lighter build and nervously wary. His deductions ceased
instantly as a flash of light crossed his vision.

For a moment the concealed watcher saw nothing save the incisive ray
of light that cut like a knife thrust through the darkness; then as he
followed the shaft of light to its source he made out the silhouette
of a man in evening dress--a white shirt front, square shoulders that
branched off into the nothingness of the cloaking shadows and a
handsome, sharp profile that lost itself in the gloom of a silk hat.

He also made out a cane from which the flashlight beamed. It was a new
device to the experience of Travers Gladwin, and he watched it with
the same fascination that a man is wont to manifest in the gleam of a
revolver muzzle that suddenly protrudes itself from the mysterious
depths of night.

The wielder of this smart burglar's implement did not move as he
gashed the darkness with the ray of light, and to Gladwin he seemed
inordinately calm. His companion