llow secretary. "The man's
drugged, as well as down."

"He'll be lucky if he ever gets up, blight and blister him!"

"I should judge it about time to telephone for the police."

"Not till I've done with him. Wait till he comes to! I guess I'll
punch his face into a jam pudding! He shall wash down his teeth with
his blood before the coppers come in for what's left!"

"You make me feel quite ill," complained the grand lady in the chair.
"I wish you'd give me a little something, and not be more vulgar than
you can 'elp."

"Help yourself," said Maguire, ungallantly, "and don't talk through
your hat. Say, what's the matter with the 'phone?"

The secretary had picked up the dangling receiver.

"It looks to me," said he, "as though the crook had rung up somebody
before he went off."

I turned and assisted the grand lady to the refreshment that she
craved.

"Like his cheek!" Maguire thundered. "But who in blazes should _he_
ring up?"

"It'll all come out," said the secretary. "They'll tell us at the
central, and we shall find out fast enough."

"It don't matter now," said Maguire. "Let's have a drink and then
rouse the devil up."

But now I was shaking in my shoes. I saw quite clearly what this
meant. Even if I rescued Raffles for the time being, the police would
promptly ascertain that it was I who had been rung up by the burglar,
and the fact of my not having said a word about it would be directly
damning to me, if in the end it did not incriminate us both. It made
me quite faint to feel that we might escape the Scylla of our present
peril and yet split on the Charybdis of circumstantial evidence. Yet I
could see no middle course of conceivable safety, if I held my tongue
another moment. So I spoke up desperately, with the rash resolution
which was the novel feature of my whole conduct on this occasion. But
any sheep would be resolute and rash after dining with Swigger
Morrison at his club.

"I wonder if he rang _me_ up?" I exclaimed, as if inspired.

"You, sonny?" echoed Maguire, decanter in hand. "What in hell could he
know about you?"

"Or what could you know about him?" amended the secretary, fixing me
with eyes like drills.

"Nothing," I admitted, regretting my temerity with all my heart. "But
some one did ring me up about an hour ago. I thought it was Raffles. I
told you I expected to find him here, if you remember."

"But I don't see what that's got to do with the crook," pursued the
secretary,