atter to the city, mornings and afternoons. In his absence, Armitage
was, he felt, the logical man for this duty. So he did not worry about
these contingencies. He had knowledge that up to eight o'clock that
morning no package for foreign countries had been either mailed or
expressed; this eliminated the fear, which might otherwise have been
warrantable, that the package had already been sent on its way to
Europe. Besides, no man of Koltsoff's experience would be likely to
trust the delivery of so important an object to any but his own hands.
Thus the probabilities were that the thing was at this minute in the
Prince's room. If all these suppositions were wrong, then Yeasky had
it. Armitage knew enough of the workings of the Secret Service Bureau
to know that if the man got out of the country he would be an elusive
person indeed, especially as he had a long, livid scar across his left
cheek which could not be concealed with any natural effect.

But, somehow, the conviction persisted in Armitage's mind that the
Prince had the control. In the short time he had spent at The Crags
this impression had not diminished; it had increased, without definite
reason, to be sure; and yet, the fact remained. He would find out one
way or another shortly. His room, not in the servants' wing, was on
the third floor, right over the apartments of the Wellington boys,
which in turn were not far from Koltsoff's suite. It would not be long
before a burglary would be committed in the Wellington house. At this
thought, Armitage thrilled with delightful emotions.

In the meantime he addressed himself to the task of gleaning further
information concerning the family into whose employ he had entered. He
learned that while Mr. Wellington and his daughter were devoted to
motoring, Mrs. Wellington would have none of it, and that the boys were
inclined to horses also. Ronald Wellington left things pretty much to
his wife and she was a "Hellian," as Ryan put it, to those about her
who were not efficient and faithful. But otherwise, she was a pretty
decent sort and willing to pay well.

"What sort are the boys?" asked Armitage, recalling that his duties
with them might begin at any time.

"Master Ronald, the oldest, is stuck on himself," replied Ryan. "He
ain't easy to get along with. Master Royal, the youngster, is as fine
a little chap as ever lived. Ronald is learning himself the cigarette
habit; which is all right--the quicker he