be just in time."

The bag containing the pearls in their red wrapping was in the girl's
hand. She stood, prepared to throw it if Ellen appeared. The taxi was
slowing down. Yes, it was stopping in front of the house. It must be
Ellen--but no! A man stepped out, and glanced quickly in all directions.
He did not look up at the window, where Clo had shrunk back as far as
she could, not to lose sight of what went on below. He was furtively
intent upon a gray limousine car, with several men in it, which had
followed the taxi along the street. The motor passed on, however, and
its occupants (there were four or five, Clo fancied) were busily
talking. They did not look out, or interest themselves in the stopping
of the taxi. The man who had come in the latter had the air of hiding
behind it, as he paid the chauffeur and carefully counted his change;
but the instant the limousine had slid ahead, regardless of him, he ran
up the steps. Clo, at the window, could see him no more.

"What if it's Chuff?" she thought, "and he finds them breaking down his
door?"

Somehow she had the impression that Cheffinsky was even more wicked than
Churn, a man without scruples, a man who would stop at nothing for his
own advantage.

"Crack!" went one of the panels, and Clo, flying to the door, snatched
the key from the keyhole. She knew the panel could not last many
minutes, and a picture rose before her mind of a hand pushing through a
hole, to turn the key in the lock. Anyhow, that should not happen!

Back she fled to the window again, and stared anxiously out.

Another taxi appeared. The gray limousine had turned, and was coming
back, also. But Clo cared only for the taxi. It was slowing down. A
woman thrust her head out and looked up--a neat little head in a black
toque. "Miss Blackburne!" The girl cried shrilly. The taxi stopped. But
the door stuck. Oh, why didn't the silly chauffeur jump off his seat and
help?

Crash! The panel broke with a loud shriek of rending wood. The hammer
came through, and was jerked quickly out again. A man's hand seized a
jagged piece of the panel and tore it away. An eye peered through the
aperture, but Clo was at the window.

"Quick--quick!" she implored, and brandished the bag far over the sill.

The eye disappeared from the panel, and the muzzle of a revolver took
its place.

Miss Blackburne had jumped down on to the pavement.

"If you throw out that bag, I fire," a voice warned Clo--a new voice,
n