of overpowering all three men, stunning them into unconsciousness, and
giving Maxine time to escape with the letter-case. But I knew the
attempt would be useless. Even if I could succeed, the noise would
arouse the hotel. People would come. Other policemen would rush in to
the help of their comrades, and matters would be worse with us than
before.

The Frenchman, having looked at Maxine, and seen that tell-tale beating
of her bodice, deliberately laid the silk cushions on the floor. Then,
pushing his hand down between the seat and the back of the sofa, he
moved it along the crevice inch by inch.

I watched the hand, which looked cruel to me as that of an executioner.
I think Maxine watched it, too. Suddenly it stopped. It had found
something. The other hand sprang to its assistance. Both worked
together, groping and prying for a few seconds: evidently the something
hidden had been forced deeply and firmly down. Then, up it came--a dark
red leather case, which was neither a letter-case nor a jewel-case, but
might be used for either. My heart almost stopped beating in the intense
relief I felt. For this was not the thing I had come from London to
bring Maxine.

I could hardly keep back a cry of joy. But I did keep it back, for
suspense and anxiety had left me a few grains of sense.

"Voila!" grunted the Commissary of Police. "I said that you were clever,
Mademoiselle. But it would have been as well for all concerned if you
had spared us this trouble."

"You alone are to blame for the trouble," answered Maxine. "I never saw