; that Worth had either received the stock
from his father that Saturday night or taken it unlawfully. I was sure
that it was the stock certificates which I had seen Worth take from the
safe-compartment of the sideboard in the small hours of Monday morning;
a breach of legal form which it would be possible for a friendly
executor to pass over.

"Cummings, Worth inherits everything under his father's will; what's the
difference about a small irregularity in taking possession? He--"

"Never explain, Jerry," Worth shut me up. "Your friends don't need it,
and your enemies won't believe it."

Cummings had stood where he was since the first of the interview. His
face went strangely livid. There was more in this than a legal fight.

"Yes, Boyne's a fool to try to help your case with explanations,
Gilbert," he choked out. "I'll see that both of you get a chance to
answer questions elsewhere--under oath. Good evening." He turned and
left.

He had the best of it all around. I endeavored for some time to get
before Worth the dangers of his high-handed defiance of law, order,
probate judges, and the court's officers, in the person of Allen G.
Cummings, attorney and his father's executor. He listened, yawned--and
suggested that it must be nearly bedtime. I gave it up, and we went--I,
at least, with a sense of danger ahead upon me--to our rooms.

Along in the middle of the night I waked to the knowledge that a
casement window was pounding somewhere in the house. For a while I lay
and listened in that helpless, exaggerated resentment one feels at such
a time. I'd drop off, get nearly to sleep, only to be jerked broad awake
again by the thudding. Listening carefully I decided that the bothersome
window was in Worth's room, and finally I got up sense and spunk enough
to roll out of bed, stick my feet into slippers, and sneak over with the
intention of locking it.

The room was dimly lighted from the street lamps, far away as they were;
I made my way across it. Worth's deep, regular breathing was quite
undisturbed. I had trouble with the catch, went and felt over the bureau
and found his flashlight, fixed the window by its help, and returning
it, remembering how near I came to knocking it off the bureau top,
thought to put it in a drawer which stood half open.

As I aimed it downward, its circle of illumination showed something
projecting a corner from beneath the swirl of ties and sheaf of
collars--a book--a red morocco-bound b