He had soon lost all fear of his stern employer visiting him at
random, and the clever London rascal now laughed detection to scorn.

For he always kept in hand one day's stealings so that, if suddenly
"called down," he could glibly explain, "Slipped it in my pocket
in my hurry! The shop was full!"

While Timmins, returning from his breakfast on this busy Monday,
wondered at Mr. Fritz Braun delaying his comfortable luncheon,
Mr. Adolph Lilienthal was anxiously awaiting his secret partner in
villainy at the "Newport Art Gallery."

Perhaps the crowning secret of Braun's remarkable success was his
clear-headed avoidance of mixing up the details of his various
schemes.

Lilienthal knew nothing of Braun's whereabouts as to a real residence,
and the colloquies and settlements of the two always took place in
Lilienthal's little private office, proof against all eavesdroppers.

The Art Emporium, thronged with the curious, was the safest place
in New York City for casual meetings, and, with a keen suspicion
of his man, Lilienthal never visited Magdal's Pharmacy. He realized
that there might be danger and deception in his fellow villain's
hospitality.

A doubt of Braun's ultimate end as a citizen had caused the smug
dealer to always avoid Braun at the jolly Restaurant Bavaria, where
the good-natured foreign convives often joined each other over a