you don't see what's going on round you?"

"What time did you say that was?" said Roger shortly.

"One o'clock Sunday morning."

Roger thought a minute. "Yes, I was in the cellar with Bock," he said.
"Bock barked, and I thought it was rats. That fellow must have taken
an impression of the lock and made himself a key. He's been in the
shop hundreds of times, and could easily do it. That explains the
disappearing Cromwell. But WHY? What's the idea?"

"For the love of heaven," said Aubrey. "Let's get back to Brooklyn as
soon as we can. God only knows what may have happened. Fool that I
was, to go away and leave those women all alone. Triple-distilled
lunacy!"

"My dear fellow," said Roger, "I was the fool to be lured off by a fake
telephone call. Judging by what you say, Weintraub must have worked
that also."

Aubrey looked at his watch. "Just after three," he said.

"We can't get a train till four," said Roger. "That means we can't get
back to Gissing Street until nearly seven."

"Call them up," said Aubrey.

They were still in the private office at the rear of Leary's. Roger
was well-known in the shop, and had no hesitation in using the
telephone. He lifted the receiver.

"Long Distance, please," he said. "Hullo? I want to get Brooklyn,
Wordsworth 1617-W."

They spent a sour twenty-five minutes waiting for the connection.
Roger went out to talk with Warner, while Aubrey fumed in the back
office. He could not sit still, and paced the little room in a fidget
of impatience, tearing his watch out of his pocket every few minutes.
He felt dull and sick with vague fear. To his mind recurred the
spiteful buzz of that voice over the wire--"Gissing Street is not
healthy for you." He remembered the scuffle on the Bridge, the
whispering in the alley, and the sinister face of the druggist at his
prescription counter. The whole series of events seemed a grossly
fantastic nightmare, yet it frightened him. "If only I were in
Brooklyn," he groaned, "it wouldn't be so bad. But to be over here, a
hundred miles away, in another cursed bookshop, while that girl may be
in trouble--Gosh!" he muttered. "If I get through this business all
right I'll lay off bookshops for the rest of my life!"

The telephone rang, and Aubrey frantically beckoned to Roger, who was
outside, talking.

"Answer it, you chump!" said Roger. "We'll lose the connection!"

"Nix," said Aubrey. "If Titania hears my voice she'll rin