ne before him.

"I'm looking for Travers Gladwin," replied the detective shortly.

"I'm Travers Gladwin," spoke up the thief, easily, but holding his
head so that Kearney could see only the profile.

"That's my name!" exclaimed Travers Gladwin in the same breath with
the impostor.

Kearney looked from one to the other, fairly pistolling his scrutiny.

"Oh, both of you named Travers Gladwin?" he asked with a puzzled
expression.

"That one's a fake," interposed Captain Stone, pointing to the real
Gladwin. "This"--nodding toward the impostor--"is the real Travers
Gladwin."

Kearney's face showed no more expression than if it had been cut for a
cameo, but when the thief asked him with perfect self-command: "What
can I do for you?" he came on into the room and stopped directly in
front of him.

"I have a warrant for your arrest," he said, abruptly, and stuck his
hand in his pocket for the document.

"My arrest! For what?" said the thief with a beautifully feigned
amazement and a little laugh of incredulity.

"Cradle snatching--abduction," jerked out Kearney, unfolding the
paper.

"That is rich!" laughed the thief.

"I got the warrant from"--Kearney stopped and his little bullet eyes
went to work on the thief from the ground up. He was measuring every
inch of the man with an eye that had been trained for years to keep
tabs on a multitude of marked and measured men.

"Would you mind coming over here--a step or two closer, Mr.--Gladwin?"
he said tensely.

The thief stepped toward him and directly under the electrolier, while
the others in the room stood like statues, looking on.

As Kearney continued his searching examination of the unflinching and
still smiling man, whose head was on a level with his and whose body
was every inch as big and well set up, Captain Stone broke in
nervously:

"What is it, Kearney?"

"I think there's some mistake, sir," said the detective, grimly. "Are
you sure this man is Travers Gladwin?"

"You seem to be in some doubt about it," said the thief, dropping his
thumbs in the pockets of his waistcoat and raising his chin a little.
Whatever was going on inside him, his eyes were twinkling with
amusement.

"I am," Kearney retorted; then to Captain Stone, "What is this case
Captain?"

"Picture robbery."

"Picture robbery! I was sure of it! You've made a mistake, Captain. I
know this man!"

The sentences came out like a succession of pistol shots, while his
eyes never left