an."

He seized the wooden mallet and beat the Burmese gong--a flat piece of
brass cut in the shape of a bell. The clear, whirring vibrations filled
the room. Long before these spent themselves Kuroki appeared on the
threshold. He bobbed.

"Kuroki, Miss Conover is dining here with me to-night. Seven o'clock
sharp. The best you have in the larder."

"Yes, sair. You are going out, sair?"

"For a bit of fresh air."

"And I am going with him, Kuroki," said Kitty. Kuroki bobbed again.
"Dinner at seven, sair." Another bob, and he returned to the kitchen,
smiling. The girl was free to come and go, of course, but the ancient
enemy of Nippon would not pass the elevator door. Let him find that out
for himself.

When the elevator arrived the boy did not open the door. He noted the
derby on Hawksley's head.

"I can take you down, Miss Conover, but I cannot take Mr. Hawksley. When
the boss gives me an order I obey it--if I possibly can. On the day the
boss tells me you can go strolling, I'll give you the key to the city.
Until then, nix! No use arguing, Mr. Hawksley."

"I shan't argue," replied Hawksley, meekly. "I am really a prisoner,
then?"

"For your own good, sir. Do you wish to go down, Miss Conover?"

"No."

The boy swung the lever, and the car dropped from sight.

"I'm sorry," said Kitty.

Hawksley smiled and laid a finger on his lips. "I wanted to know," he
whispered. "There's another way down from this Matterhorn. Come with
me. Off the living room is a storeroom. I found the key in the lock the
other day and investigated. I still have the key. Now, then, there's
a door that gives to the main loft. At the other end is the stairhead.
There is a door at the foot of the first flight down. We can jolly well
leave this way, but we shall have to return by the lift. That bally
young ruffian can't refuse to carry us up, y' know!"

Kitty laughed. "This is going to be fun!"

"Rather!"

They groped their way through the dim loft--for it was growing dark
outside--and made the stairhead. The door to the seventeenth floor
opened, and they stepped forth into the lighted hallway.

"Now what?" asked Kitty, bubbling.

"The floor below, and one of the other lifts, what?" Twenty minutes
later the two of them, arm in arm, turned into Broadway.

"This, sir," began Kitty with a gesture, "is Broadway--America's
backyard in the daytime and Ali Baba's cave at night. The way of the
gilded youth; the funnel for papa's money;