y guilty. At last the tiny
shaft of light fell upon the title of the "Pickwick Papers." With
shaking fingers Jimmie drew the book toward him. In his hands it fell
open, and before him lay "The Last Will and Testament of James Blagwin,
Esquire."

With an effort Jimmie choked a cry of delight. He had reason to feel
relief. In dragging the will from its hiding-place he had put behind him
the most difficult part of his adventure; the final ceremony of
replacing it in the safe was a matter only of minutes. With
self-satisfaction Jimmie smiled; in self-pity he sighed miserably. For,
when those same minutes had passed, again he would be an exile. As soon
as he had set his house in order, he must leave it, and once more upon
the earth become a wanderer and an outcast.

The knob of the door from the bedroom he grasped softly and, as he
turned it, firmly. Stealthily, with infinite patience and stepping close
to the wall, he descended the stairs, tiptoed across the hall, and
entered the living-room. On the lower floor he knew he was alone. No
longer, like Oliver Twist breaking into the scullery of Mr. Giles, need
he move in dreadful fear. But as a cautious general, even when he
advances, maps out his line of retreat, before approaching the safe
Jimmie prepared his escape. The only entrances to the dining-room were
through the living-room, in which he stood, and from the butler's
pantry. It was through the latter he determined to make his exit. He
crossed the dining-room, and in the pantry cautiously raised the window,
and on the floor below placed a chair. If while at work upon the safe he
were interrupted, to reach the lawn he had but to thrust back the door
to the pantry, leap to the chair, and through the open window fall upon
the grass. If his possible pursuers gave him time, he would retrieve his
shoes; if not, he would abandon them. They had not been made to his
order, but bought in the Sixth Avenue store where he was unknown, and
they had been delivered to a man named Henry Hull. If found, instead of
compromising him, they rather would help to prove the intruder was a
stranger.

Having arranged his get-away, Jimmie returned to the living-room. In
defiance of caution and that he might carry with him a farewell picture
of the place where for years he had been so supremely happy, he swept it
with his torch.

The light fell upon Jeanne's writing-desk and there halted. Jimmie gave
a low gasp of pleasure and surprise. In the