the Ross-Hendersons, and say
that under the doctor's orders I am confined to the house for the next
few days--and, Jason!"

"Yes, sir?"

"When Benson returns with the medicine let him bring it here
himself--and I shall want you as well."

Jimmie Dale propped himself up a little wearily on the pillows, as Jason
went out of the room. After all, his condition was not entirely feigned.
He was, as a matter of fact, pretty well played out, both mentally and
physically. Certainly, that he should require a doctor and be confined
to the house could not arouse suspicion even in the minds of those
alert, aristocratic thugs of the Crime Club, prone as they would be
to suspect anything--a man who had been knocked unconscious in an
automobile smash the night before, had been in a fight, had been
subjected to a terrific mental shock, to say nothing of the infernal
drug that had been administered to him, might well be expected to be
indisposed the next morning, and for several mornings following that!
It might, indeed, even cause them to relax their vigilance for the time
being--though he dared build nothing on that. Well, he had only to coach
Benson and Jason in the parts they were to play, and the balance of the
morning and all the afternoon was his in which to rest.

He reached over to the table, picked up a pencil and paper, and began to
jot down memoranda. He had just tossed the pencil back on the table as
the two men entered.

Jason, at a sign, closed the door quietly.

Jimmie Dale looked at Benson half musingly, half whimsically, for a
moment before he spoke.

"Benson," he said, "the back seat of the large touring car is hinged and
lifts up, once the cushion is removed, doesn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Benson answered promptly.

"And there's space enough for, say, a man inside, isn't there?"

"Why, yes, sir; I suppose so--at a squeeze"--Benson stared blankly.

"Quite so!" said Jimmie Dale calmly. "Now, another matter, Benson: I
believe some chauffeurs have a habit, when occasion lends itself, of
taking, shall we say, their 'best girl' out riding in their masters'
machines?"

"SOME might," Benson replied, a little stiffly. "I hope you don't think,
sir, that--"

"One moment, Benson. The point is, it's done--quite generally?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you have a 'best girl,' or at least could find one for such a
purpose, if you were so inclined?"

"Yes, sir," said Benson; "but--"

"Very good!" Jimmie Dale interrupted. "The