me pretty slick stuff there," said Danglar, with an
appraising chuckle; "but there'll be something to-night that'll make all
that bunch look like chicken-feed. The boys are at work now, and we'll
have old Hayden-Bond's necklace in another hour. Skeeny's got the
Sparrow tied up in the old room behind Shluker's place, and once we're
sure there's no back-fire anywhere, the Sparrow will chirp his last
chirp." He laughed out suddenly, and, leaning forward, clapped Rhoda
Gray exultantly on the shoulder. "It was like taking candy from
a kid! The Sparrow and the old man fell for the sick-mother,
needing-her-son-all-night stuff without batting a lid; but the Sparrow
hasn't been holding the old lady's hand at the bedside yet. We took care
of that."

Again Rhoda Gray made no comment. She wondered, as she gripped at the
rings and brooches in hand, so fiercely that the settings pricked into
the flesh, if her face mirrored in any way the cold, sick misery that
had suddenly taken possession of her soul. The Sparrow! She knew the
Sparrow; she knew the Sparrow's sick mother. That part of it was true.
The Sparrow did have an old mother who was sick. A fine old lady--finer
than the son--Finch, her name was. Indirectly, she knew old Hayden-Bond,
the millionaire, and--Almost subconsciously she was aware that Danglar
was speaking again.

"I guess luck's breaking our way again," he grinned. "The old boy paid
a hundred thousand cold for that necklace. You know how long we've been
waiting to get our hooks on it, and we've never had our eyes off his
house for two months. Well, it pays to wait, and it pays to do things
right. It broke our way at last to-night, all right, all right! To-day's
Saturday--and the safety deposit vaults aren't open on Sunday. Mrs.
Hayden-Bond's been away all week visiting, but she comes back to-morrow,
and there's some swell society fuss fixed for to-morrow night, and she
wants her necklace to make a splurge, so she writes Mr. H-hyphen-B, and
out it comes from the safety deposit vault, and into the library safe.
The old man isn't long on social stunts, and he's got pretty well set
in his habits; one of those must-have-nine-hours'-sleep bugs, and he's
always in bed by ten--when his wife'll let him. She being away to-night,
the boys were able to get to work early. They ought to be able to crack
that box without making any noise about it in an hour and a half at the
outside." He pulled out his watch-and whistled low under