evening offered the opportunity he sought. Mr. and Mrs. Chater were to
dine at the house of a neighbour. The invitation had included Bob--
fortunately he had refused it. Returning to the morning-room, "I
shan't be in to-night," he told his mother.

"Then I needn't order any dinner for you?"

"No." He hung about irresolute, then lit a cigar, and between the
puffs, "Shall you be late?" he asked carelessly.

"Sure to be," Mrs. Chater told him. "It's going to be a big bridge
drive, you know. We shan't get back before midnight. Don't sit up for
us, dear."

Bob inhaled a long breath from his cigar, exhaled it deliciously. The
chance for the slap-dash style was at hand.

"Oh, I'll be later than you. Lemmy Moss has got a bachelors' party on.
We're going to have a billiard match."

"That's capital then, dear. I shall let the servants go to Earl's
Court--I've promised them a long time."

Bob whistled gaily as he mounted his 'bus for the City. The
opportunity was surely exceptional.

At eight o'clock he returned; noiselessly let himself in.

The gas in the hall burned low. Beneath the library door gleamed a
stronger light. Bob turned the handle.