is
lips.

"Sh!" he whispered. "Are you Detective Gubb? Good! I've been expecting
you. Have you a gun?"

"In my telescope case," whispered Philo Gubb.

"Take this one," said the clerk, handing the paper-hanger-detective a
glittering revolver. "Be careful. Come--I'll show you the room."

He came from behind the desk and picked up Philo Gubb's telescope
valise and led the way up the dingy stairway. Luckily for Billy Getz's
great practical joke, Philo Gubb had never seen Jack Harburger, or he
would have recognized him in the plump little man carrying his
telescope valise. Up three flights of dark stairs, Jack Harburger led
Philo Gubb, and at the landing of the fourth floor he stopped.

[Illustration: "THESE HERE IS FALSE WHISKERS AND HAIR"]

"You were taking a risk--a big risk--coming undisguised," he said.

"But I am disguised," said Philo Gubb. "These here is false whiskers
and hair."

"What!" exclaimed Jack Harburger. "Wonderful work! A splendid make-up,
detective! You fooled me with it, and I was on my guard. You'll do.
Bend down like an old man. That's it! Now, listen: I have cut a hole
through the wall from your room into Jack's. You can hear every word
he speaks. Have you pencil and paper? Good! Jot down every word you
hear. And don't make a sound. If you are discovered--well, they're a
desperate gang. Come!"

He led the way through a long, dark corridor that turned and twisted.
At the extreme end he stopped, put down the telescope valise, and drew
a key from his pocket.

"That's Jack's room," he breathed softly, "and you go in here. Sorry
it isn't a better room. We had to use it, and you won't be here long,
anyway."

He opened the door. It was a large door that swung outward, and it
occupied one half of one side of the room. The floor of the room was
carpeted, and the walls were papered, as was the ceiling. There was no
window, but an electric light burned in the center of the ceiling.
Across the far side of the room stood a narrow iron bed, with a small
bureau beside it. Jack Harburger pointed to a hole in the wall-paper.

"That's your ear-hole," he whispered, and Philo Gubb stepped into the
room. Instantly the door slammed behind him, the key turned in the
lock, and he heard a heavy iron bar clank as it fell into place
outside. He was a prisoner, caught like a rat in a trap, and he knew
it! He threw himself against the door, but it did not give. The
electric light above his head went dark. He put o