e satisfaction he
got as the captain and the Central Office man left the room.

Sadie came forward shyly as the policemen left.

"Did you find out where he is?" she asked anxiously.

"In the cellar or on the roof. When I get to the roof he is in the
cellar, and when I reach the cellar he is on the roof. He's more
elusive than a ghost."

"Whoever are you talking about?" cried Sadie.

"Mr. Ryan, of course."

"But I don't mean Mr. Ryan--I mean the chauffeur who came for Helen. I
heard Mr. Kearney speaking about him upstairs."

"Oh, there's a chauffeur after her, too?" said Barnes, enigmatically.

"Yes, and wasn't it fortunate that the police arrived just in time to
save her."

"The police!" sniffed Barnes in disgust. "A lot they had to do with
saving her."

"Didn't they really?"

"They did not. They bungled the whole thing up horribly. Why they'd
have brought in a parson to marry them if it hadn't been"--Barnes
managed to blush.

"Then who did prevent the elopement?" asked Sadie, eagerly. "I can't
get a word out of Helen on account of Auntie El."

"Can't you guess?" said Barnes, mysteriously, looking down upon her
with a sudden return of ardor.

"Oh, did you do it?" and Sadie looked up at him from under her
lashes.

"Didn't I tell you I'd do it?" swelled Barnes.

Sadie thanked him with her wonderfully expressive eyes.

"Oh, it was nothing," shrugged Barnes.

"You're the nicest man I ever met," blurted Sadie, with astounding
frankness.

"Do you mean that?" cried Barnes, rapturously.

"Indeed I mean it," admitted Sadie, timidly, backing away from his
burning glances.

"Then you won't mind my saying," said Barnes fervently, "that you're
the nicest ma'--I mean girl--I ever met. Why, would you believe
it--confound it, here's that man Gladwin again. Please come upstairs
and I'll finish, handcuffs or no handcuffs."

CHAPTER XL.

STRIKING WHILE THE IRON IS HOT.

As Travers Gladwin skimmed up the stairs to warn Helen of the arrival
of her aunt, he was thinking on four sides of his brain at the same
time and revolving together so many lightning plans, that the result
was a good deal of a jumble. In consequence, he was wild-eyed, out of
breath and more than a trifle incoherent when he parted the crimson
curtains of the den and precipitately entered.

"Your aunt," he began as he checked his momentum and stopped against a
table beside which Miss Burton was seated, "but don't get up--and
don't