was that other door, always guarded on the inside, that required an
"open sesame" to gain admittance to the dive below.

And now he crept stealthily past this latter door, reached the
staircase, and went swiftly up to the landing above. Here another door
barred his way, and here again he placed his ear to the panel--but this
time to listen, it seemed, interminably. Every faculty was strained and
alert now. He could take no chances here, and the uproar from the dance
hall below, while it had safeguarded his ascent of the stairs, was
confusing now and by no means an unmixed blessing.

Still he crouched there, his ear to the panel--and then, satisfied at
last, he tried the door. It was locked.

"The penalty of being early!" murmured Jimmie Dale softly to himself.

His hand reached in under his vest to one of the pockets in the leather
girdle, and a tiny steel instrument was inserted in the lock. There was
a curious snipping sound, the doorknob turned slowly under his hand;
then cautiously, inch by inch, he pushed the door open, slipped
through--and stood motionless on the other side of the threshold. Save
only from the dance hall below, there was not a sound. The door closed
again; again that snipping sound as it was relocked--and then the round,
white ray of Jimmie Dale's flashlight circled his surroundings.

There was a sort of barbaric splendour to the place. Malay John was
something of a sybarite! It was a single room, whose floor was covered
with rich Turkish rugs, whose walls were covered with Oriental hangings,
and in one corner was a great, wide divan, canopied, also with Oriental
hangings at head and foot, serving presumably for a bed; but, striking a