room of his home where he and his financial and business manager
were going over the year's statement and accounting.

Ned, too, in spite of the fact that he had been busy going over
figures, adding up long columns, checking statements, and giving
the results to Tom, had been aware, in the last five minutes, of
an ever-growing tumult in the street. At first it had been no
more than the passage along the thoroughfare of an unusual number
of pedestrians. Ned had accounted for it at first by the theory
that some moving picture theater had finished the first
performance and the people were hurrying home.

But after he had finished his financial labors and had handed
Tom the first of a series of statements to look over, the young
financial expert began to realize that there was no moving
picture house near Tom's home. Consequently the passing throngs
could not be accounted for in that way.

Yet the tumult of feet grew in the highway outside. Ned had
begun to wonder if there had been an attempted burglary, a fight,
or something like that, calling for police action, which had
gathered an unusual throng that warm, spring evening.

And then had come Tom's interruption of himself when he broke
off in the middle of a sentence to listen intently.

"What is it?" asked Ned.

"I thought I heard Rad or Koku moving around out there,"
murmured Tom. "It may be that my father is not feeling well and