"Hello! Give me Spring 3100."

A cold sweat swept down Jimmie's spine. A man might forget his birthday,
his middle name, his own telephone number, but not Spring 3100!

Every drama of the underworld, crook play, and detective story had
helped to make it famous.

Jimmie stood not upon the order of his going. Even while police
headquarters was telling the prince to get the Forty-seventh Street
police station, Jimmie had torn open the front door and was leaping down
the steps.

Not until he reached Sixth Avenue, where if a man is seen running every
one takes a chance and yells "Stop thief!" did Jimmie draw a halt. Then
he burst forth indignantly.

"How was I to know he was honest!" he panted. "He's a hell of a
clairvoyant!"

With indignation as great the prince was gazing at the blonde secretary;
his eyes were filled with amazement.

"Am I going dippy?" he demanded. "I sized him up for a detective--and he
was a perfectly honest crook! And in five minutes," he roared
remorsefully, "this house will be full of bulls! What am I to do? What
am I to tell 'em?"

"Tell 'em," said the blonde coldly, "you're going on a long journey."

Jimmie now appreciated that when he determined it was best he should
work without an accomplice he was most wise. He must work alone and,
lest the clairvoyant had set the police after him, at once. He decided
swiftly that that night he would return to his own house, and that he
would return as a burglar. From its hiding-place he would rescue the
missing will and restore it to the safe. By placing it among papers of
little importance he hoped to persuade those who already had searched
the safe that through their own carelessness it had been overlooked. The
next morning, when once more it was where the proper persons could find
it, he would again take ship for foreign parts. Jimmie recognized that
this was a desperate plan, but the situation was desperate.

And so midnight found him entering the grounds upon which he never again
had hoped to place his foot.

The conditions were in his favor. The night was warm, which meant
windows would be left open; few stars were shining, and as he tiptoed
across the lawn the trees and bushes wrapped him in shadows. Inside the
hedge, through which he had forced his way, he had left his shoes, and
he moved in silence. Except that stealing into the house where lay
asleep the wife he so dearly loved made a cruel assault upon his
feelings, the adventure pres