For the least part of a second the young man hesitated, choosing his way.
Then, resolved, in accents of determination, "Stand up, you hound!" he
cried. "Back to the wall there!" and thrust the weapon under the burglar's
nose.

The move gained instant obedience. Mr. Anisty could not reasonably
hesitate in the face of such odds.

"And you," Maitland continued over his shoulder to the girl, without
removing his attention from the burglar, "into the alcove there, at once!
And not a word, not a whisper, not a sound until I call you!"

She gave him one frightened and piteous glance, then, unquestioning,
slipped quietly behind the portieres.

To Anisty, again: "Turn your pockets out!" commanded Maitland. "Quick, you
fool! The police are below; your freedom depends on your haste." Anisty's
hands flew to his pockets, emptying their contents on the floor.
Maitland's eyes sought in vain the shape of the canvas bag. But time was
too precious. Another moment's procrastination and----

"That will do," he said crisply, without raising his voice. "Now listen to
me. At the end of the hall, there, you'll find a trunk-closet, from which
a window----"

"I know."

"Naturally you would. Now go!"

Anisty waited for no repetition of the permission. Whatever the madness of