Jack, remembering the critical stage at which he had left matters in Forty-Eighth street, did not wait for the doctors, but left Berg in Mr. Delamare's care, and hastened back. He found that Tommy and the two plainclothes men had arrived in the meantime, but finding him gone, they were hanging around outside the door of the room, at a loss what to do.

This time they broke in the door without ado. At his first glance inside Jack saw that the room had been visited. Though he had been away but little more than half an hour, a clean sweep had been made of the cards and papers. A still smoldering fire in the grate showed the manner of their disposal. The window on the fire escape was open.

"He was inside when you got here!" cried Jack. "He heard you outside. Now he's given us the slip again. Why didn't you watch the back windows!"

The city detectives looked distinctly aggrieved. The spokesman for the pair said: "How did we know what your game was?"

"You knew!" said Jack to Tommy.

Tommy hung his head. "When I came back, and found you gone, I didn't know rightly what to do," he muttered.

Jack saw that it was really nobody's fault. "Oh, well, we'll have to try again," he said.

"You should have called on us sooner," said the principal detective condescendingly.

"Sorry, I didn't," said Jack dryly.

The other missed the note of irony. "Well, lay out your case to us now, and we'll give you some experienced advice."

Somehow the manner of this well-meaning gentleman did not inspire Jack with overmuch confidence as to his perspicacity. Moreover, since his man and his evidence were both gone, he saw nothing to be gained by consulting the police.

"I'm not quite ready to do that," he said good-naturedly. "Sorry to have troubled you for nothing."

The two detectives exchanged a look of scorn. "These amateurs think they know it all!" it said. Only the fact that they knew Jack was a great man's secretary, and therefore a person to be propitiated, restrained them from audible comment.

However, when they found that Jack was disposed to reward them liberally, they changed their opinion of him. Ten dollar bills are wonderful sweeteners.

"How about me?" asked Tommy anxiously.

"Back to the mines," said Jack. "In other words, 1118 Broadway."

Tommy's face fell piteously.

"Mind you," said Jack quickly. "I'm not blaming you for our failure. You did wonderful work. I'll send for you when the trail gets hot again."

He likewise presented Tommy with a green testimonial of his appreciation.

Before any of them got out of the room the telephone bell most surprisingly rang. They all stopped and stared at the instrument as if they expected an apparition to issue from the mouthpiece.

"Wait!" said Jack. "Perhaps there's something here."

He took down the receiver. "Hello," he said ingratiatingly.

The reply came in a tone no less dulcet: "How do you do, Mr. Robinson."

Jack almost dropped the receiver. "Why—what—who—" he stammered.

He heard a light laugh on the wire. "You are surprised. But I was sure I would find you there."

"Who is this?" asked Jack sparring for time—he knew very well.

"Need you ask?" replied the mocking voice. "This is the owner of the desk at which you are now seated."

Jack said to himself, "Mustn't let him think he's putting it over you!" He answered in the same mocking tone. "How do you do. So glad you called me up."

Clapping a hand over the transmitter, he whispered swiftly to the leading detective: "This is the man. Trace the call back. If he's anywhere near, get him. I'll keep him talking."

The detective took a note of the number on the transmitter, and ran out followed by Tommy.

Meanwhile the voice on the wire was saying: "Sorry I was out when you called."

"Very glad to wait until you can get back," said Jack.

"That's nice of you. But I'm mighty sorry, I've been called out of town."

As on a former occasion Jack's recollection was vaguely stirred by something familiar in the man's voice. He supposed that this was the man who had appeared as Comrade Wilde the night before, but as Wilde had not spoken aloud within Jack's hearing, it must have been on some other occasion he had heard this voice. But he could not place it.

When the exchange of ironical civilities began to pall, Jack asked politely: "What can I do for you, Mr. B.?"

"I just wanted a little chat with you. I wanted to congratulate you on your game."

"Thanks!"

"It's been a mighty interesting game that you and I have been playing the last few weeks; a sort of chess game with human pawns, eh?"

"That's right."

"Well, you've won. You have checkmated me."

"Do you mind telling me what y............