his board and lodging for twenty years all right."

"But--he's got away with it," I put in.

"As far as East Houston Street," Holmes observed, quietly. "To-morrow I
shall take up the case, track Nervy to his lair, secure Mrs. Robinson-Jones'
necklace, return it to the lady, and within three weeks the Snatcher will
take up his abode on the banks of the Hudson, the only banks the ordinary
cracksman is anxious to avoid."

"But how the dickens did you manage to put a crook like that on the grand-
tier floor?" I demanded.

"Jenkins, what a child you are!" laughed Holmes. "How did I get him there?
Why, I set him up with a box of his own, directly above the Robinson-Jones
box--you can always get one for a single performance if you are willing to
pay for it--and with a fair expanse of shirt-front, a claw-hammer and a
crush hat almost any man who has any style to him at all these days can pass
for a gentleman. All he had to do was to go to the opera-house, present his
ticket, walk in and await the signal. I gave the man his music cue, and two
minutes before the lights went out he sauntered down the broad staircase to
the door of the Robinson-Jones box, and was ready to turn the trick. He was
under cover of darkness long enough to get away with the necklace, and when
the lights came back, if you had known enough to look out into the
auditorium you would have seen him back there in his box above, taking in
the situation as calmly as though he had himself had nothing whatever to do
with it."

"And how shall you trace him?" I demanded. "Isn't that going to be a little
dangerous?"

"Not if he followed out my instructions," said Holmes. "If he dropped a
letter addressed to himself in his own hand-writing at his East Houston
Street lair, in the little anteroom of the box, as I told him to do, we'll
have all the clews we need to run him to earth."

"But suppose the police find it?" I asked.

"They won't," laughed Holmes. "They'll spend their time looking for some
impecunious member of the smart set who might have done the job. They always
try to find the sensational clew first, and by day after to-morrow morning
four or five poor but honest members of the four-hundred will find when they
read the morning papers that they are under surveillance, while I, knowing
exactly what has happened will have all the start I need. I have already
offered my services, and by ten o'clock to-morrow morning they will be
accepted, as will also th