ths ago."

"All the same, I don't believe it was Drummond."

"You haven't missed any property, I believe?"

"No."

"So presumably the fellow had some motive other than a desire to thieve.
Besides, if he'd been on the loot he might much more easily have tried
one of the lower floors--and more sensibly."

"It would seem so," Whitaker admitted sulkily.

"And that missing switch-button--"

"What do _you_ know about that?"

"My sources of information.... It strikes me that a man who took that
much trouble to prevent your turning on the light must have been rather
anxious to avoid recognition. I shed the inference for its intrinsic
worth, merely."

"Well...." Whitaker temporized.

"And I'd like to know what you mean to do."

"About what?"

"With the understanding that you're content to leave the case of
burglary and assault to the mercies of the police: what do you mean to
do with yourself?"

"I don't know--hadn't thought."

"Unless you're hell-bent on sticking around here to get your head bashed
in--I venture respectfully to suggest that you consign yourself to my
competent care."

"Meaning--?"

"I've got a bungalow down on Long Island--a one-horse sort of a bachelor
affair--and I'm going to run down there this evening and stay awhile.
There's quiet, no society and good swimming. Will you come along and be
my guest until you grow tired of it?"

Whitaker looked his prospective host over with a calculating, suspicious
eye.

"I ought to be able to take care of myself," he grumbled childishly.

"Granted."

"But I've a great mind to take you up."

"Sensibly spoken. Can you be ready by three? I'll call with the car
then, if you can."

"Done with you!" declared Whitaker with a strong sense of relief.

As a matter of fact, he was far less incredulous of Ember's theory than
he chose to admit.

X

THE WINDOW

Though they left New York not long after three in the afternoon,
twilight was fast ebbing into night when the motor-car--the owner
driving, Whitaker invalided to the lonely grandeur of the tonneau--swept
up from a long waste of semi-wooded countryside, sparsely populated,
bumped over railroad tracks, purred softly at sedate pace through the
single street of a drowsy village, and then struck away from the main
country road.

Once clear of the village bounds, as if assured of an unobstructed way,
Ember gave the motor its head; with a long, keen whine of delight it
took the bit between