the butler's purple sleeve.
"Watch it like a cat. Stay right near it under any and all
circumstances. Don't go away from it. It may mean life or death to your
master."

"I'll stoiy right 'ere, sir."

"See that you do," cautioned the Detective. "See that you do."

Delaney found the hats and coats in the foyer. These they donned,
opened the outer door, and stepped into the night with jaws squared and
hands thrust deep in their pockets.

They crossed the snow-mantled Avenue upon a long diagonal which brought
them to the up-town corner and the waiting taxi, whose engine was
softly purring beneath its hooded bonnet.

The driver was asleep. He woke as Drew laid a hand on his arm.

"Seen anything?" asked the Detective.

"Nothin', boss, but snow. Nothin' at all," he yawned.

Delaney glanced about. He opened the taxi door on the street side and
lunged inward with a sigh of relief. Drew followed and pulled the door
shut.

"Where's the bunch?" he asked. "Just how did you post them?"

"Flood's with the fixed-post cop on the Avenue. He's down a block.
Flynn and Cassady are in the alley--in the yard, I mean. They're
watching the junction-box and the wires. Joe and O'Toole went east.
Harrigan is planted across the street. That's him between the two
buildings. See him?"

Drew rubbed the rear glass of the taxi. He pressed his nose against
this. A blurred form, almost obliterated by falling snow, showed where
the operative was guarding the mansion.

Delaney, who was watching out through another window, suddenly clutched
Drew by the arm. "Look!" he exclaimed. "Look, Chief! Over toward the
big house!"

The Detective drew back from his study of Harrigan. He turned on the
seat and followed Delaney's pointing finger. He clamped his jaw shut
with a click of strong teeth.

"Somebody's coming out of Stockbridge's," said the operative.

"Quek!" signaled Drew. "Watch, closely," he added in a whisper.

A girl came through the doorway and opened the iron-grilled gates. She
paused and glanced north and south through the curtain of down-falling
snow. She turned with resolution and hurried along the east side of the
Avenue. She was at the corner opposite the taxi, when Drew reached and
opened the door with sly fingers.

"Tail her," he ordered. "Right after her, Delaney. I'd know that little
lady in a million."

"Who is she, Chief?"

"Loris Stockbridge!"

"Sure?"

"Yes! Right after her! There--she turned east. See her white