He had plenty of nerve. He had plenty of experience along his
chosen line of endeavor. But, while a crook may control his
nerve, he cannot make it phlegmatic or steady. Always, he must
be conscious of holding it in check, as a clever driver checks
and steadies and keeps in subjection a plunging horse. Let the
vigilance slacken, and there is a runaway.

Now this particular marauder had long ago keyed his nerve to the
chance of interruption from some gun-brandishing householder; and
to the possible pursuit of police; and to the need of fighting or
of fleeing. But all his preparations had not taken into account
this newest emergency. He had not steeled himself to watch
unmoved the gliding away of a treasure-satchel, apparently moving
of its own will; nor the shimmer of two greenish sparks in the
air just above it. And, for an instant, the man had to battle
against a craven desire to bolt.

Lad, meanwhile, was having a beautiful time. Sincerely, he
appreciated the playful grab his nocturnal friend had made in his
general direction. Lad had countered this, by frisking away for
another five or six feet, and then wheeling about to face once
more his playfellow and to await the next move in the blithe
gambol. The pup could see tolerably well, in the darkness quite
well enough to play the game his guest had devised. And of
course, he had no way of knowing that the man could not see
equally well.

Shaking off his momentary terror, the thief once more pressed the
button of his flashlight; swinging the torch in a swift
semicircle and extinguishing it at once; lest the dim glow be