eemed to have escaped his cunning
calculation. Though the door leading from the verandah into the
reception hall swung wide to the balmy airs of late Spring the prowler
passed this blatant invitation to the hospitality of the House of Prim.
It was as though he knew that from his place at the head of the table,
with his back toward the great fire place which is the pride of the
Prim dining hall, Jonas Prim commands a view of the major portion of the
reception hall.

Stooping low the youth passed along the verandah to a window of the
darkened library--a French window which swung open without noise to his
light touch. Stepping within he crossed the room to a door which opened
at the foot of a narrow stairway--a convenient little stairway which
had often let the Hon. Jonas Prim to pass from his library to his second
floor bed-room unnoticed when Mrs. Prim chanced to be entertaining the
feminine elite of Oakdale across the hall. A convenient little stairway
for retiring husbands and diffident burglars--yes, indeed!

The darkness of the upper hallway offered no obstacle to this familiar
housebreaker. He passed the tempting luxury of Mrs. Prim's boudoir, the
chaste elegance of Jonas Prim's bed-room with all the possibilities of
forgotten wallets and negotiable papers, setting his course straight
for the apartments of Abigail Prim, the spinster daughter of the First
National Bank of Oakdale. Or should we utilize a more charitable and at
the same time more truthful word than spinster? I think we should, since
Abigail was but nineteen and quite human, despite her name.

Upon the dressing table of Abigail reposed much silver and gold and
ivory, wrought by clever artisans into articles of great beauty and some
utility; but with scarce a glance the burglar passed them by, directing
his course straight across the room to a small wall safe cleverly hidden
by a bit of tapestry.

How, Oh how, this suggestive familiarity with the innermost secrets of a
virgin's sacred apartments upon the part of one so obviously of the
male persuasion and, by his all too apparent calling, a denizen of that
underworld of which no Abigail should have intimate knowledge? Yet,
truly and with scarce a faint indication of groping, though the room was
dark, the marauder walked directly to the hidden safe, swung back the
tapestry in its frame, turned the knob of the combination and in a
moment opened the circular door of the strong box.

A fat roll of bills