t in view; indeed, there
was even no one at the inquiry-window. Orme reasoned that at this hour
some of the clerks might be leaving--which would mean, perhaps, that they
were first putting away their books. At least they would not be expecting
business callers.

The door of the great sample refrigerator was ajar only two or three
feet. When Orme was there a few minutes before it had been wide open. He
wondered whether the girl had chosen it as her hiding-place. If she had,
his plan of action would be simplified, for he would slip the papers in
to her, then get Alcatrante from the room.

In a casual way he folded his arms. He could now put his hand into his
inside coat-pocket and the motion would hardly be noticed.

For a moment he stood as though waiting for someone to appear at the
inquiry-window. Though Alcatrante was watching him closely, Orme
continued to act as if he were the only person in the room.

And now the dial of the big thermometer in the outer wall of the
refrigerator appeared to catch his eye, and he strolled over to it. This
placed him almost in the open doorway. Apparently his eyes were on the
dial, but in reality he was glancing sidewise into the chamber of the
refrigerator. He glimpsed a moving figure in there--heard a faint
rustling. Thrusting his hand into the inside of his coat, he was about to
take out the precious papers to pass them in to her.

Then he received a violent push from behind. He plunged forward, tripped
with one foot on the sill of the refrigerator doorway, and went in
headlong, sprawling on the tiled floor. His clutching hand caught the
fold of a woman's skirt. Then, though he remained conscious, everything
suddenly turned black.

Bewildered as he was, several seconds passed before he realized that the
massive door had been closed--that he and the girl were prisoners.

CHAPTER XIV

PRISONERS IN THE DARK

Orme's hand still held her skirt.

"Girl!" he whispered.

"Yes. Are you hurt?"

Her voice came to him softly with all its solicitude and sympathy. She
knelt, to help him if need be, and her warm, supple hand rested gently on
his forehead. He could have remained for a long time as he was, content
with her touch, but his good sense told him that their safety demanded
action.

"Not hurt at all," he said, and as she withdrew her hand, he arose.
"Alcatrante caught me off guard," he explained.

"Yes, I saw him. There wasn't time to warn you."

"He has been do