ear the
window, with my cigar and my thoughts.

Miss Letitia's troubles I dismissed shortly. While it was odd that only
ten pearls should have been taken, still--in every other way it bore the
marks of an ordinary theft. The thief might have thought that by leaving
the majority of the gems he could postpone discovery indefinitely. But
the Fleming case was of a different order. Taken by itself, Fleming's
disappearance could have been easily accounted for. There must be times
in the lives of all unscrupulous individuals when they feel the need of
retiring temporarily from the public eye. But the intrusion into the
Fleming home, the ransacked desk and the broken money drawer--most of
all, the bit of paper with eleven twenty-two on it--here was a hurdle my
legal mind refused to take.

I had finished my second cigar, and was growing more and more wakeful,
when I heard a footstep on the path around the house. It was black
outside; when I looked out, as I did cautiously, I could not see even
the gray-white of the cement walk. The steps had ceased, but there was a
sound of fumbling at one of the shutters below. The catch clicked twice,
as if some thin instrument was being slipped underneath to raise it, and
once I caught a muttered exclamation.

I drew in my head and, puffing my cigar until it was glowing, managed by
its light to see that it was a quarter to two. When I listened again,
the house-breaker had moved to another window, and was shaking it
cautiously.

With Miss Letitia's story of the pearls fresh in my mind, I felt at once
that the thief, finding his ten a prize, had come back for more. My
first impulse was to go to the head of my bed, where I am accustomed to
keep a revolver. With the touch of the tall corner post, however, I
remembered that I was not at home, and that it was not likely there was
a weapon in the house.

Finally, after knocking over an ornament that shattered on the hearth
and sounded like the crash of doom, I found on the mantel a heavy brass
candlestick, and with it in my hand I stepped into the gloom of the
hallway and felt my way to the stairs.

There were no night lights; the darkness was total. I found the stairs
before I expected to, and came within an ace of pitching down, headlong.
I had kicked off my shoes--a fact which I regretted later. Once down the
stairs I was on more familiar territory. I went at once into the
library, which was beneath my room, but the sounds at the window ha