if you don't want me in your joint, I'll go down stairs and
get them to bunk me somewhere in the dump." He rose. "I suppose they'll
fix me up?"

Brencherly went to the telephone and spoke for a moment. "All right," he
said; "they'll give you number seventy-three on this floor. I want you
to do something for me to-morrow, so set the bellboy for eight o'clock,
will you?" A moment later he turned his assistant over to the hotel
roundsman, and turned to his own well earned rest. Making a neat packet
of the clippings, he stowed them away once more in their worn
receptacle--he hesitated, then nodded to himself, having decided to
replace them. He must gain this woman's confidence. She must not be made
suspicious. Above all, her anger must not be roused. She might become
stubborn and uncommunicative. He stepped into the adjoining room and
turned on the electrics. The quick flash of the light made him shut his
eyes. When he opened them he gave a cry of dismay. The tumbled bed was
empty--the window stood wide open. It flashed into his mind, that as he
had talked with Long over the incriminating bits of paper, he had felt a
draft of air; but his knowledge that his captive was securely tied had
eliminated from his mind any idea of the possibility of an attempt at
escape. Then, cursing himself, he recalled how he had loosened the cords
about her ankles. With a bound he was at the window, looking down at the
spidery threads of fire escape ladders, leading down to the utter dark
of the service alley.

"My God!" he exclaimed aloud. "My God!" He feared to find a crushed and
broken little body at the foot of those steep iron ladders. It seemed
impossible for such a frail and aged woman to have, unaided, made her
way down the sides of that inky precipice. "Good Lord!" he exclaimed
again, "if only she isn't killed!" He stood looking out, leaning as far
over the iron railing as he dared, waiting till his eyes should become
accustomed to the darkness. Gradually the details of the structure
became clear to his vision. No ominous dark mass took shape on the
pavement, far beneath. He could vaguely make out the contours of an ash
can or two and an abandoned wheelbarrow. But the alley from end to end
held no human form. She had succeeded in making her escape! Then at all
costs he must find her; and the police must not get hold of her. The
evidence of the clippings, her angry words as she prepared to attack
Mrs. Marteen--all outlined a possible s