"He has it somewhere!" Crenshaw declared, fingering his revolver.

"My dear fellow," Marston returned, "we are willing to accept Mr.
Harleston's averment."

"He knows where it is--he took it--let him tell where it is hidden."

"What good will that subserve? We can't get it tonight, and tomorrow
will be too late."

"And all because of you two meddlers."

"Three meddlers, Crenshaw!" Marston laughed. "You must not forget your
sweet self. We've bungled the affair, I admit. We can't improve it now
by murdering each other--"

"We can make it very uncomfortable for the fourth meddler," Crenshaw
threatened, eyeing the figure on the bed.

"Haven't you made me uncomfortable enough by this untimely intrusion?"
Harleston muttered sleepily.

"What is your idea in not offering any opposition?" Crenshaw demanded.
"Is it a plant?"

"It was courtesy at first, and the novelty of the experience; but it's
ceased to be novel, and courtesy is a bit supererogatory. By the way,
which of you came up the fire-escape?"

The three shook their heads.