Gentleman Jack had his revolver, and was waiting to all, with the look of the man who is just going to say that he has only done his and no thanks.
"Who are you?" he said.
"Nev' min' who I am!" said Miss Trimble curtly. "Siz Pett who I am."
"I you won't be offended, Lord Wisbeach," said Mrs. Pett from the group by the door. "I a to help you. I you not manage by yourself. I you do not mind."
"Not at all, Mrs. Pett. Very wise."
"I'm so to you say so."
"An excellent move."
Miss Trimble in on these exchanges.
"Whassall this? Howjer mean—help me?"
"Lord Wisbeach most offered to do all he to protect my nephew's explosive," said Mrs. Pett.
Gentleman Jack modestly.
"I I have been of some assistance! I think I came in the of time. Look!" He pointed to the safe. "He had just got it open! Luckily I had my pistol with me. I him, and called for help. In another moment he would have got away."
Miss Trimble to the safe and it with a frown, as if she it. She gave a and returned to her place by the window.
"Made good job 'f it!" was her comment.
Ann came forward. Her was and her shone.
"Do you to say that you Jimmy into the safe? I anything so absurd!"
Mrs. Pett intervened.
"This is not James Crocker, Ann! This man is an impostor, who came into the house in order to Willie's invention." She looked at Gentleman Jack. "Lord Wisbeach told me so. He only to him this afternoon."
A low from the open mouth of little Ogden. The him. The he had in the library the two men had it clear to him that Jimmy was and Lord Wisbeach a fraud, and he not why Jimmy did not produce his proofs as before. He was not aware that Jimmy's was only just to clear from the of the on the chin. Ogden himself for in the event of Jimmy calling him as a witness. But he did not to have his little into the open.
Ann was looking at Jimmy with horror-struck eyes. For the time it came to her how little she of him and how very likely it was—in the of the it was almost certain—that he should have come to the house with the of Willie's explosive. She against it, but a voice to her that it was he who had the idea of as Jimmy Crocker. She not help how and he had on the scheme. But had it been so mad? Had it not been a for this other venture? If Lord Wisbeach had him in this room, with the safe open, what other there be?
And then, with her that he was a criminal, came the that he was the man she loved. It had only needed the of him in trouble to make her sure. She came to his with the idea of doing something to help him, of him her support. Once there, she that there was nothing to do and nothing to say. She put her hand on his, and waiting for she not what.
It was the touch of her which Jimmy from his stupor. He came to himself almost with a jerk. He had been aware of what had been said, but speech had been him. Now, suddenly, he was a whole man once more. He himself into the with energy.
"Good Heavens!" he cried. "You're all wrong. I him open the safe!"
Gentleman Jack superciliously.
"A likely story, what! I to say, it's a thin!"
"Ridiculous!" said Mrs. Pett. She to Miss Trimble with a gesture. "Arrest that man!"
"Wait a mom'nt," that clear-headed maiden, her teeth with the of her revolver. "Wait mom'nt. Gotta look 'nto this. Hear these guys' st'ries."
"Really," said Gentleman Jack suavely, "it absurd—"
"Ney' mind how 'bsurd 't sounds," returned the Trimble rebukingly. "You close y'r 'n t' me. Thass all you've do."
"I know you didn't do it!" Ann, her on Jimmy's arm.
"Less 'f it, please. Less 'f it!" Miss Trimble the pistol from her mouth and pointed it at Jimmy. "What've you to say? Talk quick!"
"I to be there—"
"Why?" asked Miss Trimble, as if she had touched off a bomb.
Jimmy stopped short. He in the way of explanation.
"I to be there," he stoutly, "and that man came into the room with an electric and a and on the safe—"
The of Gentleman Jack cut in on his story.
"Really now, is it while?" He to Miss Trimble. "I came here, having a noise. I did not to be here for some purpose. I was and something my attention. As Mrs. Pett knows, I was of this and him to make an attempt on the at any moment: so I took my pistol and downstairs. When I got here, the safe was open and this man making for the window."
Miss Trimble her with the revolver, and for a moment in thought. Then she to Jimmy like a rattlesnake.
"Y' someth'g th'n that," she said. "I got y'r number. Y're with th' goods."
"No!" Ann.
"Yes!" said Mrs. Pett. "The thing is obvious."
"I think the best thing I can do," said Gentleman Jack smoothly, "is to go and telephone for the police."
"You think of everything, Lord Wisbeach," said Mrs. Pett.
"Not at all," said his lordship.
Jimmy him moving to the door. At the of his mind there was a that he solve the whole trouble if only he one which had him. The of the he had still him. He to remember, but without result. Gentleman Jack the door and opened it: and as he did so a yapping, of the and the voices within, itself from the passage outside. Gentleman Jack closed the door with a bang.
"I say that dog's out there!" he said plaintively.
The of Aida's on the out his words. He looked about him, baffled.
"That dog's out there!" he gloomily.
Something to give way in Jimmy's brain. The which had him till now into his mind.
"Don't let that man out!" he cried. "Good Lord! I've only just remembered. You say you me into the safe! You say you a noise and came to investigate! Well, then, what's that test-tube of the doing in your breast-pocket?" He to Miss Trimble. "You needn't take my word or his word. There's a much way of out who's the crook. Search us both." He to turn out his pockets rapidly. "Look here—and here—and here! Now ask him to do the same!"
He was pleased to a pass across Gentleman Jack's countenance. Miss Trimble was the with suspicion.
"Thasso!" she said. "Say, Bill, I've f'gott'n y'r name—'sup to you to us! Less've a look 't what y' got there."
Gentleman Jack himself up haughtily.
"I not agree to—"
Mrs. Pett indignantly.
"I of such a thing! Lord Wisbeach is an old friend—"
"Less'f it!" ordered Miss Trimble, left was now like the left of a basilisk. "Y' us, Bill, so b' quick 'bout 't!"
A played over Gentleman Jack's face. He was the aristocrat, against something that "wasn't done." He his into his pocket. Then, out the test-tube, and it up, he spoke with a for which Jimmy not help him.
"All right! If I'm done, I'm done!"
The by his action and his was of the as profound. Mrs. Pett a shriek. Willie Partridge like a dog. Sharp came from each of the geniuses.
Gentleman Jack waited for the to subside. Then he his drawl.
"But I'm not done," he explained. "I'm going out now through that window. And if to stop me, it will be his—or her—" he to Miss Trimble—"last act in the world. If any one makes a move to stop me, I shall this test-tube and the whole place to pieces."
If his speech had a marked on his audience, his second them. A as of the tomb. Only the of the dog Aida to be stilled.
"Y' where y' are!" said Miss Trimble, as the moved the window. She the poised, but for the time that night—possibly for the time in her life—she spoke irresolutely. Superbly woman though she was, here was a that her.
Gentleman Jack the room slowly, the test-tube fore-finger and thumb. He was level with Miss Trimble, who had her and had to one side, at a to know how to this crisis, when the door open. For an the of Howard Bemis, the poet, was visible.
"Mrs. Pett, I have telephoned—"
Then another voice him.
"Yipe! Yipe! Yipe!"
Through the opening the dog Aida, in the of the obstacle, like a with and a tongue. She across the room to where Gentleman Jack's waited invitingly. Ever since their meeting she had wanted a at those ankles, but some one had always her.
"Damn!" Gentleman Jack.
The word was in one of noise. From every in the room there a shout, a shriek, or some other of cry, as the test-tube, from the victim's fingers, a through the air.
Ann herself into Jimmy's arms, and he her tight. He his eyes. Even as he waited for the end the through his mind that, if he must die, this was the manner of death which he would prefer.
The test-tube on the writing-desk, and into a pieces. . . .
Jimmy opened his eyes. Things to be much about the same as before. He was still alive. The room in which he was solid and intact. Nobody was in fragments. There was only one respect in which the from what it had been a moment before. Then, it had Gentleman Jack. Now it did not.
A great to through the room. There was a long silence. Then, from the direction of the street, came the of a starting automobile. And at that the man with the who had part of Miss Trimble's a cry.
"Gee! He's it in my bubble! And it was a one!"
The to the in the air. One by one the company masters of themselves once more. Miss Trimble, that woman, was the to recover. She herself from the floor—for with a idea that she would be there she had herself down—and, having her skirt with a of her left hand, herself once more to business.
"I let 'm me with a bomb!" she bitterly. She on this for a moment. "Say, th't door 'gain, some one, and t'run this out. I can't think with th't going on."
Mrs. Pett, and scared, Aida into her arms. At the same time Ann herself from Jimmy's. She did not look at him. She was shy. Shyness had been a of hers, but she would have much now to have been elsewhere.
Miss Trimble again took of the situation. The of the had died away. Gentleman Jack had passed out of their lives. This Miss Trimble. She spoke with asperity.
"Well, he's gone!" she said acidly. "Now we can t' cases again. Say!" She Mrs. Pett, who started nervously. The of through the of the of death and of herself in one piece of thousand had her of all her masterfulness. "Say, list'n t' me. There's been a game on here t'night. That guy that's jus' gone was th' part of th' entertainment. Now we c'n start th' sec'nd part. You see these ducks?" She with a of the Mr. Crocker and his comrade. "They've been trying t' y'r son!"
Mrs. Pett a cry.
"Oggie!"
"Oh, can it!" that youth, uncomfortably. He moments ahead, and he to his on the part he was to play in them. He looked at Chicago Ed. In a minutes, he supposed, Ed. would be attempting to his own crimes, by that he, Ogden, had him to come and him. Stout must be his weapon.
"I had m' suspicions," Miss Trimble, "that someth'ng was goin' t' be off to-night, 'nd I was waiting f'r it to loose. This guy here," she the plotter, who through his spectacles, "h's been waiting on the c'rner of th' for the last hour with 'n automobile. I've b'n him right along. I was onto h's game! Well, just now out came the kid with this plug-ugly here." She to Mr. Crocker. "Say you! Take off th't mask. Let's have a l'k at you!"
Mr. Crocker the from his face.
"Goosh!" Miss Trimble in distaste. "Say, 've you got some of a plague, or wh't is it? Y'look like a supplement!" She the Mr. Crocker and ran a over his cheek. "Make-up!" she said, the disgustedly. "Grease paint! Goosh!"
"Skinner!" Mrs. Pett.
Miss Trimble her more closely.
"So 't is, if y' do a 'f excavating." She on the one. "'nd I all this is fake, 'f you come to it!" She at the man's beard. It came off in her hands, a square it. "If this ain't a wig, y'll have a t'morrow," Miss Trimble, her into his head-covering and pulling. "Wish y' luck! Ah! 'twas a wig. Gimme those spect'cles." She the results of her grimly. "Say, Clarence," she remarked, "y're a wise guy. Y' look with 'em on. Does any one know this duck?"
"It is Mitchell," said Mrs. Pett. "My husband's physical instructor."
Miss Trimble turned, and, walking to Jimmy, him on the with her revolver.
"Say, this is gett'n interesting! This is where y' 'xplain, y'ng man, how 'twas you to be in this room when th't who's just gone was monkeyin' with the safe. L'ks t' me as if you were in with these two."
A of being on the of one of those which the path of our came to Jimmy. To his identity from Ann any longer impossible. He was about to speak, when Ann in.
"Aunt Nesta," she said, "I can't let this go on any longer. Jerry Mitchell isn't to blame. I told him to Ogden!"
There was an silence. Mrs. Pett laughed nervously.
"I think you had go to bed, my dear child. You have had a shock. You are not yourself."
"But it's true! I did tell him, didn't I, Jerry?"
"Say!" Miss Trimble Jerry with a gesture. "You 't t' y'r little bed, honey, like y'r aunt says. Y' say y' told this guy t' th' kid. Well, what about this here Skinner? Y' didn't tell him, did y'?"
"I—I—" Ann confusedly. She was unable to account for Skinner, and it her of difficult.
Jimmy came to the rescue. He did not like to think how Ann would the news, but for her own he must speak now. It would have a harder-hearted man than himself to the mute of his father's grease-painted face. Mr. Crocker was a game sport: he would not have said a word without the from Jimmy, to save himself from a night in prison, but he that Jimmy would speak.
"It's perfectly simple," said Jimmy, with an attempt at which under Miss Trimble's eye. "Perfectly simple. I am Jimmy Crocker, you know." He Ann's gaze. "I can't think what you are making all this about."
"Th'n why did y' in at a plot to this boy?"
"That, of course—ha, ha!—might at to a little explanation."
"Y' admit it, then?"
"Yes. As a of fact, I did have the idea of Ogden. Wanted to send him to a dogs' hospital, if you what I mean." He to a smile, but, Miss Trimble's left eye, the project. He a of from his with his handkerchief. It him as a very thing that the were so often difficult to make. "Before I go any further, I ought to one thing. Skinner there is my father."
Mrs. Pett gasped.
"Skinner was my sister's in London."
"In a way of speaking," said Jimmy, "that is correct. It's a long story. It was this way, you see. . . ."
Miss Trimble an of contempt.
"I n'ver saw such a of babbl'ng in m' life! 't me what y' to this stuff. Say!" She Mr. Crocker. "This guy's wanted f'r something over in England. We've got h's 'n th' office. If y' ask me, he out with the 'r something. Say!" She one of the with her eye. "'Bout time y' y'rself useful. Go'n call up th' Astorbilt on th' phone. There's a there that's been making the f'r this duck. She told Anderson's—and Anderson's it on to us—to call her up any hour of the day 'r night when they him. You go her on the wire and t'll her t' come right up here'n a taxi and identify him."
The paused at the door.
"Whom shall I ask for?"
"Mrs. Crocker," Miss Trimble. "Siz Bingley Crocker. Tell her we've th' guy she's been looking for!"
The out. There was a of from the doorway.
"I your pardon!" said the genius.
"Can't you look where you're going!"
"I am sorry—"
"Brrh!"
Mr. Pett entered the room, hopping. He was one in his hand and appeared to be it to some of massage. It was plain that the mild and little man was in a temper. He him at the company assembled.
"What the devil's the here?" he demanded. "I it as long as I could, but a man can't a of sleep with this noise going on!"
"Yipe! Yipe! Yipe!" Aida from the of Mrs. Pett's arms.
Mr. Pett started violently.
"Kill that dog! Throw her out! Do something to her!"
Mrs. Pett was at her husband. She had him like this before. It was as if a had and at her. Coming on top of the of the night, it had the of making her weak. In all her married life she had what was. She had with the late Mr. Ford, a man of a temperament; and as for the mild Mr. Pett she had on him. But now she afraid. This new Peter her.
