en when drunk--which was too often."

"But--this is most interesting--how did you get separated, you and de
Lorgnes?"

"Bad luck, a black night, and--I guess there's no more question about
this--your friend, Popinot-Dupont. I'll say this for that blighter: as
a self-made spoil-sport, he sure did give service!"

Phinuit gave his whiskey and soda a reminiscent grin.

"And we thought we were being bright, at that! We'd figured every move
to the third decimal point. The only uncertain factor in our
calculations, as we thought, was you. But with you disposed of, dead to
the world, and Madame de Montalais off in another part of the chateau
calling the servants to help, leaving her rooms wide open to us--the
job didn't take five minutes. The way de Lorgnes made that safe give up
all its secrets, you'd have thought he had raised it by hand! We
stuffed the loot into a grip I'd brought for the purpose, and beat
it--slipped out through the drawing-room window one second before
Madame de Montalais came back with that doddering footman of hers. But
they never even looked our way. I bet they never knew there'd been a
robbery till the next morning. Do I lose?"

"No, monsieur; you are quite right."

"Well, then: We had left our machine--we had driven over from
Millau--just over the brow of the hill, standing on the down-grade,
headed for Nant, with the gears meshed in third, so she would start
without a sound as soon as we released the emergency brake. But when we
got there, it wasn't. The frantic way we looked for it made me think of
you pawing that table for your candle, after de Lorgnes had lifted it
behind your back. And then of a sudden they jumped us, Popinot and his
crew; though we didn't know who in hell; it might have been the chateau
people. In fact, at first I thought it was....

"I lost de Lorgnes in the shuffle immediately, never did know what had
become of him till we got Liane's wire this morning. I was having all I
could do to take care of myself, thank you. I happened to be carrying
the grip, and that helped a bit. Somebody's head got in the way of its
swings, and I guess the guy hasn't forgotten it yet. Then I slipped
through their fingers--I'll never tell you how; it was black as pitch,
that night--and beat it blind. I'd lost my flashlamp and had no more
idea where I was heading than an owl at noon of a sunny day. But
they--the Popinot outfit--seemed to be able to see in the dark all
right; or else I was loon