Without waiting a moment longer than necessary, the masked
criminal advanced again and actually put his hand down through the
top of the safe, pulling out a bunch of papers. Quickly he thrust
them all, with just a glance, into his pocket.

Still working quickly, he took the bust of the great dramatist
which he had removed and placed it under the light. Next from his
pocket he drew two curious stencils, as it were, which he had
apparently carefully prepared. With his hands, still carefully
gloved, he rubbed the stencils on his hair, as if to cover them
with a film of natural oils. Then he deliberately pressed them
over the statue in several places. It was a peculiar action and he
seemed to fairly gloat over it when it was done, and the bust
returned to its place, covering the hole.

As noiselessly as he had come, he made his exit after one last
malignant look at Dodge. It was now but the work of a moment to
remove the wires he had placed, and climb out of the window,
taking them and destroying the evidence down in the cellar.

A low whistle from the masked crook, now again in the shadow,
brought his pal stealthily to his side.

"It's all right," he whispered hoarsely to the man. "Now, you
attend to Limpy Red."

The villainous looking pal nodded and without another word the two
made their getaway, safely, in opposite directions.

. . . . . . . .