to the door, turned the key in the lock, and
retraced her steps to the washstand that stood in the shadows against
the wall on the opposite side from the bed, and near the far end of the
garret. Here she found the short stub of a candle that was stuck in
the mouth of a gin bottle, and matches lying beside it. She lighted the
candle, and turned inquiringly to Gypsy Nan.

The woman pointed to the end of the garret where the roof sloped sharply
down until, at the wall itself, it was scarcely four feet above the
floor.

"Go down there. Right to the wall--in the center," instructed Gypsy Nan
weakly. And then, as Rhoda Gray obeyed: "Now push up on that wide board
in the ceiling."

Rhoda Gray, already in a stooped position, reached up, and pushed at
a rough, unplaned board. It swung back without a sound, like a narrow
trap-door, until it rested in an upright position against the outer
frame of the house, disclosing an aperture through which, by standing
erect, Rhoda Gray easily thrust her head and shoulders.

She raised the candle then through the opening--and suddenly her dark
eyes widened in amazement. It was a hiding place, not only ingenious,
but exceedingly generous in expanse. As far as one could reach the
ceiling metamorphosed itself into a most convenient shelf. And it had
been well utilized! It held a most astounding collection of
things. There was a cashbox, but the cashbox was apparently wholly
inadequate--there must have been thousands of dollars in those piles of
banknotes that were stacked beside it! There was a large tin box, the
cover off, containing some black, pastelike substance--the "stuff,"
presumably, that Gypsy Nan used on her face and hands. There was a
bunch of curiously formed keys, several boxes of revolver cartridges,
an electric flashlight, and a great quantity of the choicest brands
of tinned and bottled fruits and provisions--and a little to one side,
evidently kept ready for instant use, a suit of excellent material,
underclothing, silk stockings shoes and hat were neatly piled together.

Rhoda Gray took the clothing, and went back to the bedside. Gypsy Nan
had made little progress in disrobing. It seemed about all the woman
could do to cling to the edge of the cot and sit upright.

"What does all this mean, Nan," she asked tensely; "all those things up
there--that money?"

Gypsy Nan forced a twisted smile.

"It means I know how bad I am, or I wouldn't have let you see what you
have,"