business."

He swung up over the rail on to the veranda, and walked softly along it
until he came to a window opening into the office. Cautiously he peered
in. The vast lonely room was lighted by a single candle. At the foot of
the broad stair he could discern a great bulk, seated on the lowest
step, which he correctly took to be the mayor of Reuton. Back of the
desk, on which stood the candle, Mr. Max's head and shoulders were
visible. He was working industriously in the immediate vicinity of the
safe door. Occasionally he consulted the small traveling-bag that stood
on the desk. Many other professions had claimed Mr. Max before his
advent into Reuton politics; evidently he was putting into operation the
training acquired in one of them. Mr. Bland was nowhere in sight.

Shivering with cold and excitement, Mr. Magee leaned against the side of
Baldpate Inn and waited. Mr. Max worked eagerly, turning frequently to
his bag as a physician might turn to his medicine-case. No word was
spoken in the office. Minutes passed. The bulk at the foot of the stairs
surged restlessly. Mr. Max's operations were mostly hidden by the desk
at which, in summer, timid old ladies inquired for their mail. Having
time to think, Mr. Magee pictured the horror of those ladies could they
come up to the desk at Baldpate now.

Suddenly Mr. Max ran out into the center of the office. Almost on the
instant there was a white puff of smoke and a roar. The inn seemed about
to roll down the mountain after all those years of sticking tight. The
mayor looked apprehensively up the stair behind him; Mr. Max ran to the
open safe door and came back before the desk with a package in his hand.
After examining it hastily, Mr. Cargan placed the loot in his pocket.
The greedy eyes of Max followed it for a second; then he ran over and
gathered up his tools. Now they were ready to depart. The mayor lifted
the candle from the desk. Its light fell on a big chair by the fire, and
Mr. Magee saw in that chair the figure of Mr. Bland, bound and gagged.

Mr. Cargan and his companion paused, and appeared to address triumphant
and jesting comment in Mr. Bland's direction. Then they buttoned their
coats and, holding aloft the candle, disappeared through the dining-room
door.

"I must have that package." Standing on the balcony of Baldpate Inn, her
yellow hair white with snow, her eyes shining even in shadow, thus had
the lady of this weird drama spoken to Mr. Magee. And glad