off into the center of the reception room and
studied the situation from every angle. The furniture was fragile and
in sets of such splendid periods his eyes closed over them. The rugs
and tapestries--curtains and portieres--sheathings of yellow
hand-painted silk from Nippon--rare ceramics and cloisonnes--a huge
peach-blow vase of the Ming dynasty and a hundred little jade and
jasper knick-knacks were the outward evidence of wealth.

He opened the plate-glass cases and peered inside. He crawled under a
couch and backed out dusting his hands. He tapped with slow knuckles a
long cheval-glass by the side of which was a tiny gold-bracket and a
silver-plated telephone. He went the rounds of the walls, lifting
pictures, portraits and little military oils by French painters of the
Franco-Prussian period. He found nothing to excite his suspicion!

Entering a simple bedroom, with its tiled flooring and its single white
bed, he spared this as he passed to the bath beyond, which had no
outlet save a ventilating shaft securely barred by a bronze grating of
close, fantastic-scrolled mesh.

Delaney's heavy steps were heard in the reception hall as Drew
finished. Striding out into the larger room he frowned as the operative
deposited a blanket upon a Persian rug and began to untie its corners.

"I got 'em here, Chief," explained the assistant with upturned face.
"There's five or six prints--all alike."

"What? Repeat that!" Drew dropped to one knee.

"Sure, Chief. There's only been one guy at that junction-box before the
freezing started. He made plenty of tracks. He came and went from the
fence to the box. It's a small foot. There was plenty of prints made
after the snow piled on top of these little prints."

"The operatives?"

"Sure, and the Central Office bunch! But these prints I got here are
the only ones under the snow. They stuck up when I melted away the
surface."

Delaney offered a plaster-cast of the top of a footprint. It was
roughly done. It had been made, like the others in the blanket, by
pouring cold plaster within a retaining bulge of soap. The plaster had
hardened and brought out each detail. Drew traced his finger over the
toe. "Right foot," he said. "Now let's see the others!"

"Here's a left foot, Delaney," added the detective slowly. "Only one
left and four right. That might happen. You didn't take them all. Well,
bundle them up and plant them somewhere. Put them under that couch, out
of sight. I've g