viewpoint, there was no desperate
need of haste. Jimmie Dale crossed the lawn, and edged along in the
shadows of the house to where the light streamed out from what now
proved to be open French windows. It was a fair presumption that he
would have an hour to the good on the Weasel.

The sill was little more than a couple of feet from the ground, and,
from a crouched position on his knees below the window, Jimmie Dale
raised himself slowly and peered guardedly inside. The room was empty.
He listened a moment--the black silk mask was on his face again--and
with a quick, agile, silent spring he was in the room.

And then, in the centre of the room, Jimmie Dale stood motionless,
staring around him, an expression, ironical, sardonic, creeping into his
face. THE ROBBERY HAD ALREADY BEEN COMMITTED! At the lower end of the
room everything was in confusion; the door of a safe swung wide, the
drawers of a desk had been wrenched out, even a liqueur stand, on which
were well-filled decanters, had been broken open, and the contents of
safe and desk, the thief's discards as it were, littered the floor in
all directions.

For an instant Jimmie Dale, his eyes narrowed ominously, surveyed the
scene; then, with a sort of professional instinct aroused, he stepped
forward to examine the safe--and suddenly darted behind the desk
instead. Steps sounded in the hall. The door opened--a voice reached
him:

"The master said I was to shut the windows, and I haven't dast to go in.
And he'll be back with the police in a minute now. Come on in with me,
Minnie."

"Lord!" exclaimed another voice. "Ain't it a good thing the missus is
away. She'd have highsteericks!"

Steps came somewhat hesitantly across the floor--from behind the desk,
Jimmie Dale could see that it was a maid, accompanied by a big, rawboned
woman, sleeves rolled to the elbows over brawny arms, presumably the
Mittels' cook.

The maid closed the French windows, there were no others in the room,
and bolted them; and, having gained a little confidence, gazed about
her.

"My, but wasn't he cute!" she ejaculated. "Cut the telephone wires, he
did. And ain't he made an awful mess! But the master said we wasn't to
touch nothing till the police saw it."

"And to think of it happening in OUR house!" observed the cook heavily,
her hands on her hips, her arms akimbo. "It'll all be in the papers, and
mabbe they'll put our pictures in, too."

"I won't get over it as long as I live!" de