nd, and no doubt an extensive burglary
had been planned.

I waited in the big, dark room for nearly twenty minutes, when
suddenly I heard heavy, stumbling footsteps returning, and became
conscious that the men, aided by the woman, were carrying with them a
heavy human form. It was enveloped in black cloth and trussed up
firmly with stout rope.

"Say, are you all right, Mr. Hargreave?" inquired the American
girl-crook.

I replied in the affirmative, whereupon she whispered: "Good! Come
right along. It's worked beautifully. The old boy started up to see me
at his bedside, and put on his dressing-gown to talk to me. Oh! it was
real fun! He dared only speak in a whisper for fear the servants
overheard. I told him I was thirsty, and he took me into his study.
We had drinks, and I put him quietly to sleep with a couple of drops
of the soothing syrup. When he comes to himself he'll have the shock
of his life. Six months ago in Philadelphia--when I wanted some
money--he defied me. Now it will cost the old skinflint a very big sum
if he wants to see the light of day again! If he won't pay up, well,
we are none the worse off, are we?"

A quarter of an hour later they had placed the unconscious form of Sir
Joseph in the car, and, bidding farewell to the three stalwart men,
who were, no doubt, professional thieves from London, we started back
swiftly through Farnham and Aldershot, thence by way of Reading and
along the Bath Road to a lonely house somewhere outside Hounslow,
where the American girl stopped me.

There the unconscious man was carried in, and while the others
remained in the house--which I think had been taken furnished and
specially for the purpose--I was ordered to return to London alone,
which I did, most thankful to end that exciting night's adventure.

* * * * *

On my return to the garage off the Tottenham Court Road at half-past
three in the morning, the man on duty told me that a man's voice had
inquired for me about nine o'clock.

"He seemed very anxious indeed to find you. But he told me to give you
a number--number ninety-nine! Sounds like a doctor, eh, sir?"
remarked the man.

I stood aghast at the message.

"Are you sure that was the number?" I asked.

"Yes, sir. I wrote it down here. He gave a Mayfair telephone number,"
and he showed me the note he had made.

It was a message from Rayne! That number was the one agreed upon by
all of us as a signal that some