him Helen ran to the window and then back
to the door. She was now terribly alarmed on another score. She
feared to go out and she feared to remain in the house. She feared
physically--feared violence.

Travers Gladwin had found the bowie knife and slipped it into his
trousers pocket. Then he had gone down the stairs on the run. As he
entered the room and saw that the man had gone he said:

"Is he running away--and without his pictures or his hat and coat.
What's his game, I wonder."

"He's coming back--he says my aunt sent you here," said Helen, but
less afraid at his return to the room.

"Never mind what he says," Gladwin returned, gesturing excitedly. "You
must go home--now. To-morrow you can learn the truth."

"But if I go out he'll be sure to see me," she protested.

Gladwin looked about him and thought a moment.

"Do you see that little alcove back of the stairs," he said quickly,
pointing. Helen crossed the room and nodded.

"Well, hide in there," he commanded. "The curtains will conceal you.
If he and his man come back I'll get them in this room--then I'll
press this button, see?"

He indicated a button and added: "That rings a buzzer; you can hear it
from the alcove, and then slip out the front door."

The girl paused but an instant, then fled to the place of shelter.

CHAPTER XXXII.

IN WHICH BLUFF IS TRUMPS.

Having disposed of the girl for the moment, Travers Gladwin decided it
was time to call Michael Phelan to his assistance. There was no
telling what this amazing crook might do now. He was too much for him.
That a thief and impostor could possess such superhuman nerve had
never occurred to his untutored mind. He was a perfect dub to have let
the situation reach such a stage of complexity, though the one thought
uppermost in his mind was to save Helen from public ridicule and
contempt.

He had reasoned it out that just the uniform of Officer 666 would
serve him almost as a magician's wand. He had almost counted on the
thief taking one craven look at his constabulary disguise and then
leaping through the window--fleeing like a wolf in the night--he,
Travers Gladwin, remaining a veritable hero of romance to sooth and
console Helen and gently break the news to her that she had been the
dupe of an unscrupulous criminal. Instead of which--he ground his
teeth, went to the little panel door and shouted Phelan's name.

Mrs. Phelan's son came a-running.

He had been on his way. The vas