"A burglar. What did you suppose? That I was indulging in target practice
at this time of night?"

"Which way'd he go?"

"Back of the flat--through the window to the fire-escape, I suppose. I
took a couple of shots after him, but missed, and inasmuch as he was
armed, I didn't pursue."

Hickey stepped forward, glowering unpleasantly at the young man. "Yeh go
along," he told the uniformed man, "'nd see 'f he's tellin' the truth.
I'll stay here 'nd keep him company."

His tone amused Maitland. In the reaction from the recent strain upon his
wits and nerve, he laughed openly.

"And who are you?" he suggested, smiling, as the policeman clumped heavily
away. Hickey spat thoughtfully into a Satsuma jardiniere and sneered. "I
s'pose yeh never saw me before?"

Maitland bowed affirmation. "I'm sorry to say that that pleasure has
heretofore been denied me."

"Uh-huh," agreed the detective sourly, "I guess that's a hot one, too." He
scowled blackly in Maitland's amazed face and seemed abruptly to swell
with mysterious rage. "My name's Hickey," he informed him venomously, "and
don't yeh lose sight of that after this. It's somethin' it won't hurt yeh
to remember. Guess yer mem'ry's taking a vacation, huh?"

"My dear man," said Maitland, "you speak in parables and--if you'll pardon