whole crowd from the Eden Theatre are coming. I only hope
the reporters don't get hold of it."

* * * * *

A few hours later Virginia was summoned to her uncle's room. As she
entered the door she passed a small, insignificant-looking man, plainly
dressed, and of somewhat servile appearance, whom she remembered to have
seen about the place several times since her arrival. He glanced at her
in passing, and Virginia saw that his eyes, at any rate, were keen
enough. She found her uncle, now fully dressed, walking up and down the
room, with his hands behind his back.

"I have just had news of our friends, Virginia," he remarked. "They are
evidently very much in earnest. If they can't get hold of that paper by
strategy, they are going to try and steal it."

"Won't that be a little difficult?" she asked.

He smiled.

"More difficult than they imagine. The coffer itself is an inch thick,
and the lock will stand anything but dynamite. However, I hear that
they've engaged a professional burglar, so we ought to get some
amusement out of it."

"How did you hear this?" she asked.

"The little man who has just gone out," he answered. "He is one of
Pinkerton's detectives, or rather he was. He is in my service now, and
spends most of his time watching these precious friends of mine. I
expect they will make the attempt to-night."

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "Send for the police?"

Her uncle shook his head.

"Certainly not," he answered. "If it wasn't that I suppose they will
arrange it so that the affair could not possibly be traced back to them,
I should be in the room myself. As it is, I shall leave the matter to
Leverson, the man who has just gone out. He will get as much help as he
wants. Only if you hear a noise in the night, you will know what
to expect."

Virginia shivered a little.

"There will be a fight, I suppose," she said.

"There may be some shooting," he answered. "In any case, I am not afraid
of their opening my safe-box."

CHAPTER VIII

FIREARMS

In the middle of the night Virginia was awakened by the sound of a
revolver shot. She put on her dressing-gown, and, with an electric torch
in her hand, started to descend the stairs. The house was already,
however, a blaze of light. Electric alarm bells were ringing, and
servants were hurrying toward the library. The man Leverson was sitting
in an easy-chair, with an ugly gash across the temple, and one o