nd had the key out, as heavy
steps shook the upper stairway and a knock sounded on the panels of the
door.

"Who's there?" asked Drew.

"Delaney, Chief!"

"All right! Just a moment."

The detective glanced through the slit in the tapestries, saw
that Nichols and Loris were across the room, then twisted the
butterfly-latch, at the same time he thrust in the flat key and turned
the lock.

The door swung open. Delaney's huge bulk blocked the way. He half
turned, cursed savagely, and clutched a pipe-stem neck with rude
fingers. "Come along, you!" he boomed. "Get in there!"

The form of a man hurtled by Drew, fell and rose, then fell again
beyond the tapestries in the center of the sitting room. Drew, like
some lithe cat, was over him with a drawn gun. Delaney puffed across
the rugs and tried to speak as the detective leaned and studied the
chalk-pale face below shielding cuffed hands which were raised
impotently.

"The trouble-man!" exclaimed Loris fearsomely.

A Central Office detective slouched through the door, deposited a kit
of lineman's tools on the floor near the tapestries, then retired
discreetly.

"It's him!" said Drew. "Please get back, Miss Stockbridge. We're going
to fix this fellow."

"Oh, please don't strike him."

"Please--Miss Stockbridge. I'll promise nothing in this connection.
This is the man who foully murdered your father."

Loris shrank back and against Nichols' extended arm. Drew glanced at
her with swift concern. He dropped his eyes to the man at his feet.
"What happened?" he asked Delaney. "Has this fellow said anything? Done
any talking?"

Delaney glared at the trouble-man. "Never a word has he said, Chief.
He's a clam. But----"

"What's that? Go on, Delaney!"

"Why, Chief, I wouldn't have brought him here if he hadn't said to
Morphy over the 'phone that _'it'_ was fixed in her room. Now what does
he mean by that _'it'?"_

"We'll find out!" declared Drew, dropping to the prisoner's side.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"THE PRISONER SPEAKS"

The detective wasted no time searching the trouble-hunter's pockets.
His skilled fingers drew forth two envelopes, a note book and a small
roll of money, the least of which was ten-dollar bills and the
greatest, on the inside, spread out to three staring noughts and a one
in front of these.

"One thousand and sixty dollars!" said Drew dryly, handing the roll to
Delaney. "This fellow's well heeled. Perhaps for a get-a-way. Take
that. N