erstood referred to the
girl and her outburst in her boudoir.

"Good," Drew said closing his lips. "That's good. Now, Mr.
Stockbridge," he added, "there will be eight of us on the outside of
this house. You have your trusted servants inside. There's three
telephones in good order, thanks to the trouble-man. There's the entire
New York Police and Detective Departments to back us up. There should
be no trouble."

The Magnate blinked beneath the cone of rose-light. He wet his dry
lips. He rubbed his scaly hands. "Any orders to me?" he asked
determinedly. "What shall I do?"

"You lock this library door when Delaney and I go out. Lock it and bolt
it securely. Don't take a particle of food. Don't drink any water. Try
to get along to-night without sampling anything."

Stockbridge reached for the bottle of Bourbon. He held it up to the
light. It was half full. "All right," said he. "I might finish part of
this--that's all."

Drew glanced at Delaney. "That'll be all right," he said turning. "That
bottle's been tested. You might let this officer try a little of it.
Nothing like being sure, you know."

Delaney was willing. The drink he poured, after the butler brought a
clean glass, would have cost him considerable money in war time. He
upended it neat. He smiled as one hand rested upon his chest. "Fine!"
he said with sincerity. "There's nothin' th' matter with that!"

Drew turned toward the portieres, where, between, the butler waited.
"We'll go now," he said. "Remember--lock and bolt this door. Instruct
your man to stay outside and not to leave it under any circumstances.
When you go up to your bedroom, have him go with you. Then lock the
upstairs door and let your valet sleep across the threshold. You can
have a mattress moved for that purpose. I'll come in--first thing in
the morning. Good night, sir!"

"Good night," repeated Stockbridge rising from his chair and leaning
his hands upon the polished surface of the table. "Good night to both
of you!"

Drew glanced back as the butler pressed in the curtains and started
closing the hardwood door. The Magnate still stood erect under the rich
glow from the overhead cone. His eyes were slit-lidded and defiant. He
glared about the room like an aged lion in a jungle-glade. He started
around the table.

The door closed. Drew waited in the hallway. He heard the lock snap.
The bolt shot home. Stockbridge was alone in a sealed room.

"Watch this door!" ordered Drew clutching