nk official sharply. "Well, it's about time! I've
been waiting up for it--though I expected you would telephone rather
than this. Come in!"

"Thank you," said Jimmie Dale courteously--and stepped into the hall.

The other closed the front door. "The servants are in bed, of course,"
he explained, as he led the way toward the lighted room. "This way,
please."

Behind the other, across the hall, Jimmie Dale followed and close at
Carling's heels entered the room, which was fitted up, quite evidently
regardless of cost, as a combination library and study. Carling, in
a somewhat pompous fashion, walked straight ahead toward the
carved-mahogany flat-topped desk, and, as he reached it, waved his hand.

"Take a chair," he said, over his shoulder--and then, turning in the act
of dropping into his own chair, grasped suddenly at the edge of the desk
instead, and, with a low, startled cry, stared across the room.

Jimmie Dale was leaning back against the door that was closed now behind
him--and on Jimmie Dale's face was a black silk mask.

For an instant neither man spoke nor moved; then Carling, spare-built,
dapper in evening clothes, edged back from the desk and laughed a little
uncertainly.

"Quite neat! I compliment you! From headquarters with a report, I think
you said?"

"Which I neglected to add," said Jimmie Dale, "was to be made in
private."

Carling, as though to put as much distance between them as possible,
continued to edge back across the room--but his small black eyes, black
now to the pupils themselves, never left Jimmie Dale's face.

"In private, eh?"--he seemed to be sparring for time, as he smiled. "In
private! You've a strange method of securing privacy, haven't you? A bit
melodramatic, isn't it? Perhaps you'll be good enough to tell me who you
are?"

Jimmie Dale smiled indulgently.

"My mask is only for effect," he said. "My name is--Smith."

"Yes," said Carling. "I am very stupid. Thank you. I--" he had reached
the other side of the room now--and with a quick, sudden movement jerked
his hand to the dial of the safe that stood against the wall.

But Jimmie Dale was quicker--without shifting his position, his
automatic, whipped from his pocket, held a disconcerting bead on
Carling's forehead.

"Please don't do that," said Jimmie Dale softly. "It's rather a good
make, that safe. I dare say it would take me half an hour to open it. I
was rather curious to know whether it was locked or not."

Ca