ivolity, before these comparative strangers, there came
floating down the stair well to him in a sharp half-whisper a woman's
voice.

"Is that you?" it asked.

"Yes," answered Mr. Leary, truthfully. It was indeed he, Algernon Leary,
even though someone else seemingly was expected. But the explanation
could wait until he was safely upstairs. Indeed, it must wait. Attempted
at a distance it would take on rather a complicated aspect; besides, the
caretaker just below might overhear, and by untoward interruptions
complicate a position already sufficiently delicate and difficult.

Down from above came the response, "All right then. I've been worried,
you were so late coming in, Edward. Please slip in quietly and take the
front room. I'm going on back to bed."

"All right!" grunted Mr. Leary.

But already his plan had changed; the second speech down the stair well
had caused him to change it. Safety first would be his motto from now
on. Seeing that Mr. Edward Braydon apparently was likewise out late it
would be wiser and infinitely more discreet on his part did he avoid
further disturbing Mrs. Braydon, who presumably was alone and who might
be easily frightened. So he would just slip on past the Braydon
apartment, and in the hallway on the fourth floor he would cannily bide,
awaiting the truant Slack's arrival.

On tiptoe then, flight by flight, he ascended toward the top of the
house. He was noiselessly progressing along the hallway of the third
floor; he was about midway of it when under his tread a loose plank gave
off an agonized squeak, and, as involuntarily he crouched, right at his
side a door was flung open.

What the discomfited refugee saw, at a distance from him to be measured
by inches rather than by feet, was the face of a woman; and not the face
of young Mrs. Edward Braydon, either, but the face of a middle-aged lady
with startled eyes widely staring, with a mouth just dropping ajar as
sudden horror relaxed her jaw muscles, and with a head of grey hair
haloed about by a sort of nimbus effect of curl papers. What the strange
lady saw--well, what the strange lady saw may best perhaps be gauged by
what she did, and that was instantly to slam and bolt the door and then
to utter a succession of calliopelike shrieks, which echoed through the
house and which immediately were answered back by a somewhat similar
series of outcries from the direction of the basement.

XI

Up the one remaining flight of stairs