the desk, drew off the gloves, and opened the bag; a peep within which was
enough. With a deep and slow intake of breath he knotted the draw-string
and dropped the bag into his pocket. A jeweled cigarette case of unique
design shared the same fate.

Quick eyes roaming the desk observed the telegram form upon which Maitland
had written Cressy's name and address. Momentarily perplexed, the thief
pondered this; then, with a laughing oath, seized the pen and scribbled,
with no attempt to imitate the other's handwriting, a message:

_"Regret unavoidable detention. Letter of explanation follows."_

To this Maitland's name was signed. "That ought to clear him neatly, if I
understand the emergency."

The thief rose, folding the telegraph blank, and returned to the bedroom,
taking up his hat and the murderous cane as he went. Here he gathered
together all the articles of clothing that he had discarded, conveying the
mass to the trunk-room, where an empty and unlocked kit-bag received it
all.

"That, I think, is about all."

He was very methodical, this criminal, this Anisty. Nothing essential
escaped him. He rejoiced in the minutiae of detail that went to cover up
his tracks so thoroughly that his campaigns were as remarkable for the
clues he did leave with malicious design, as for those that he didn't.

One final thing held his attention: a bowl of hammered brass, inverted
beneath a ponderous book, upon the desk. Why? In a twinkling he had removed