the secretary has got me safely pocketed, or thinks he has. I
have an idea he'll stand pat. You see, he doesn't know about my talent
for opening locked doors."

He strolled back to the door as he spoke and examined the lock. Then,
appreciatively, he drew from his pocket the screw-driver he had
thoughtfully brought from the garage.

"I fancied this might be useful. It will take me just about four minutes
to open that door," he announced. "So get on your things and be ready
to start in a hurry."

"Do you imagine that we can get away now, in broad daylight?" She seemed
dazed by the suggestion.

"Why not? You want to get out of here, don't you?"

"Yes--I--of course I do!"

"You don't seem very sure of it."

Laurie was smiling down at her with his hands still in his pockets, but
there was an expression in his eyes she had never seen there before, an
expression keen, cold, almost but not quite suspicious.

"Yes, but--you don't understand. Shaw has other men on watch, two of
them."

"Where?"

"In the grounds. One in the front and the other in the back."

The new-comer mentally digested this unwelcome information.

"If we wait till it's dark," said the girl, "we'll have a better
chance."

"Unless Shaw gets back in the meantime." He was still watching her with
that new look in his eyes. Then, briskly, he returned to his interest in
the doorlock.

"In any case," he casually remarked, "we don't want to be jailed here."

She said no more, but sat watching him as he worked, deftly and
silently. In little more than the time he had predicted he opened the
door and held it wide.

"Any time you would like to pass out," he invited, then checked himself
and vanished in the dimness of the hall. The girl left behind heard the
sounds of running feet, of a sharp scuffle, of a few words spoken in a
high, excited voice. Then Laurie reentered the room, pushing the
secretary before him. At present the youth looked anything but meek. His
blond hair was on end, his tie was under one ear, his pale eyes were
bright with anger, and he moved spasmodically, propelled by jerks from
behind.

"I don't like this young man," said Laurie, conversationally. "I never
have. So I'm going to put him where for a few hours he can't annoy us.
Is there a good roomy closet on this floor? If there is, kindly lead us
to it."

"Say, hold on!" cried the blond youth, in outraged tones. "I'm sick of
this."

"Shut up." Laurie shook him gently. "And