everybody. Keep everything in sight. I'll be here to help, but from now on
you represent the road."

Harvey arranged the desk to suit him, then he opened the small door behind
him and crossed the passage. The vault door was open, but a steel gate
barred the way. A key hung by the window, and as Harvey unlocked the gate
and swung it open, a bell rang. He examined the shelves, and noted that
the books were in place. He knew that the possession of those books meant
practically the possession of the road.

Reentering his office he found the deputy standing in the other doorway.

"Gentleman to see you, Mr. West," said the deputy. "Won't give his name.
Says it's important."

"Show him in," Harvey replied.

The deputy stepped back and made way for a quiet-looking man who was even
larger than himself. The newcomer closed the door behind him.

"Mr. West," he said, "Mr. Weeks ordered me to report to you. I'm Mallory,
from the Pinkerton agency. I have three men outside. Have you any
instructions?"

Harvey checked a smile. It reminded him of the stories of his boyhood. But
in a moment it dawned upon him that if Jim thought the situation so
serious, he must be very careful.

"Yes," he answered slowly. "Put one man near the vault--here"--he opened
the small door--"let no one go into the vault without my permission. Then