aim the honor. I just happened in here as Mr. Phelan was coming out
of the chest."

"Why did that Jap make such a thundering racket upstairs?" broke in
Kearney. "The whole thing looks to me like a frame-up."

Travers Gladwin shrugged his shoulders and said easily:

"Considering the number of policemen on the job, does it not also take
on the aspect of a slip-up? It would make rather amusing reading in
the newspapers, but if you prefer, gentlemen, we can let the matter
drop right here."

Captain Stone and Kearney looked at each other and found no comfort in
each other's countenances.

"Even though he got away with one hundred thousand dollars' worth of
my paintings, slipping out from under your very noses," Gladwin
pressed his advantage, "I may, for the sake of avoiding notoriety,
decide that it is best to keep the thing quiet. Of course, it is in
your power to compel publicity."

"Not against your wishes, sir," said Captain Stone, meekly.

"And you, Mr. Kearney," smiled the young man, looking up into the
frowning visage of the much advertised Central Office man.

"Captain Stone is my superior officer," said Kearney shortly, through
compressed lips.

"Very well, then, Captain," Gladwin ran on, "we will just drop the
incident from our minds. You will oblige me by calling off your men at
once."

Captain Stone bowed and left the room, followed by Kearney.

"Well, Phelan," said Gladwin, turning to that distressed individual,
"the evening's entertainment seems at an end."

"'Tis a divvil of an intertainment fer me--I'll be broke to-morrer."

"Oh, no, Phelan," and the young man walked over and patted him on the
shoulder, "not broke--you'll resign."

"A swell chance I've got to resign--with no shield to turn in. It'll
break the heart of me poor ould mother."

There were tears in Michael Phelan's voice and his woe-begone
expression was pitiable. Young Gladwin hastened to cheer him up.

"I will take it upon myself to see that you are honorably discharged,
Phelan. I can almost swear that a little note to Captain Stone with an
inclosure of say four figures will put through your resignation."

"But I'll be out of a job, won't I?" flared Phelan.

"Not for a minute. I am going to give you a job for life."

"What?"

"Yes, and at twice the salary you were getting. I'm going to appoint
you my private watchman to guard my picture gallery."

"Sure, an' this ain't one o' your jokes?" Phelan asked, with a dismal
ef