Prim dining hall, Jonas Prim commands a view of the
major portion of the reception hall.

Stooping low the youth passed along the verandah to
a window of the darkened library--a French window
which swung open without noise to his light touch. Step-
ping within he crossed the room to a door which opened
at the foot of a narrow stairway--a convenient little stair-
way which had often let the Hon. Jonas Prim to pass
from his library to his second floor bed-room unnoticed
when Mrs. Prim chanced to be entertaining the femi-
nine elite of Oakdale across the hall. A convenient little
stairway for retiring husbands and diffident burglars--
yes, indeed!

The darkness of the upper hallway offered no obstacle
to this familiar housebreaker. He passed the tempting
luxury of Mrs. Prim's boudoir, the chaste elegance of
Jonas Prim's bed-room with all the possibilities of forgot-
ten wallets and negotiable papers, setting his course
straight for the apartments of Abigail Prim, the spinster
daughter of the First National Bank of Oakdale. Or
should we utilize a more charitable and at the same time
more truthful word than spinster? I think we should,
since Abigail was but nineteen and quite human, de-
spite her name.

Upon the dressing table of Abigail reposed much sil-
ver and gold and ivory, wrought by clever artisans into
articles of great beauty and some utility; but with scarce