sing the window
and entering without leaving a track of some kind. He dismissed this
supposition as untenable. He turned to Delaney, fully puzzled.

"Was there a climber's set in that bag?" he asked sharply.

"I didn't see any, Chief. I don't think this fellow's a climber. He
ain't built like one. His shoes are smooth on the bottom and his hands
are all polished up around the nails. Looks to me, Chief, as if he
might be able to pick most any kind of a lock."

"The locks are out of the question!" snapped Drew. "I examined them.
They're not in line. Has anybody here any suggestions?"

Drew stared at the prisoner's drawn, white face as he asked this
question. "He wasn't long in this part of the house," said the captain.
"The maid watched him. She thought perhaps he might take something."

"Fosdick is to blame!" said Drew almost losing his temper. "He should
have given strict orders at the door not to let anybody in till the
case was settled. It's all mixed up now. This man had ample opportunity
to cover himself. A clever sneak could do most anything under your eyes
without you seeing him operate. I suppose the only thing to do is to
turn him over to Headquarters. He'll get his!"

Loris frowned slightly at Drew's manner. The detective did not act like
his former self. She watched him pace the floor between the prisoner
and the tapestries. He came back with a square set to his jaw and a
hard glint in his olive eyes which gleamed like steel behind velvet.

"Stand him up!"

Delaney stared at his chief. He opened his mouth, then closed it
firmly. "All right," he said, reaching down. "I'll stand him up if you
let me give him an upper-cut. I don't like these silent crooks. They're
snaky, Chief."

"No unnecessary violence, gentlemen," suggested Nichols as Loris laid
her hand on his arm. "I'd like to have him alone for a few minutes--but
outside. Go easy. Perhaps he'll talk."

"It may be your life or this man's!" gritted Drew, stepping up to the
prisoner after a sharp glance at Loris. "I pity him when Fosdick gets
hold of him. He'll talk then!"

The prisoner swayed with Delaney's fingers gripping his collar in a
vice-strong clutch. His white-pale face, his narrow-set eyes, his
furtive glance to left and right like a cornered rat, brought Drew to
mind of a man who was slowly breaking down. He lowered his brows and
clutched the prisoner's elbow with strong fingers that pressed deep
through the coat sleeve.

"Out with i