At about a quarter to nine Darrell once more sauntered past the house.

He could see into the parlor, as the inside shutters were turned, and with a number of others he was attracted by the bright scene.

Although perhaps he would not confess it, the bachelor detective was eagerly hoping for even a fleeting glimpse of Marian.

He got it too.

After having seen the photograph Lillian had shown him, he knew he could not be mistaken.

The girl stood for half a minute in direct focus from his place of observation, and the gas-light fell full upon her face and figure.

Darrell drew in a long breath.

“That settles it,” he muttered, “I’ll try—unless this other affair takes the heart out of me.”

He had lived between thirty-five and forty years without ever having a serious love scrape; but an inward monitor told him his time had come at last.

The little god plays all manner of pranks with his victims, and although Eric Darrell had eluded his sway so long, it would all be made up to him presently.

As Marian stood there she was joined by a second figure.

This was Joe.

Eric scanned his face eagerly, as best he could under the circumstances.

“Thank heaven! Joe is calm. He has aroused his energies. No danger of his giving out when the crucial test comes,” he muttered.

Joe Leslie did appear self-possessed, but it was easy to be seen that he was not himself this evening.

His wife accounted for it to the friends about her by stating that Joe had been overworking himself lately, and that morning he complained of a severe headache.

She did not seem to suspect that she had given him cause for his breakdown.

None are so blind as those who refuse to see. It might be this or innocence that caused her to ignore the truth.Eric, with a sigh, passed on.

He had seen Lillian join the others, and the trio gave him a strange feeling.

“So fair, and yet so false. How can a man trust a woman when he has such a terrible example before his eyes—and her sister too.”

He soon forgot all this. Something else attracted his attention, and he found that there was need of his care. A couple of sinister-looking men passed the house and looked in.

He saw them conversing eagerly together a minute or two later just beyond.

At first an idea sprang into his head that they might be men hired by Prescott to create a disturbance and delay pursuit after the latter had succeeded in reaching his carriage with Lillian.

If this were so, he must take them into his calculations and watch them closely. That their conversation concerned the house where the little gathering was taking place was beyond all doubt, for their motions attested this.

Then they moved off.

Eric did not believe they had gone, and he followed them with his eyes.

They slipped into a vacant lot near by, and the detective began to get a new idea.Perhaps these fellows were not in the employ of the artist after all, but skirmishing around on their own hook.

That meant knavery.

He was aroused.

To follow them was his first thought.

Stealing down to the vacant lot he too vanished amid its blackness.

At first he could see and hear nothing, but in a few minutes he caught a clew, and found that the two men had gone to the fence separating the vacant lot from Joe’s back yard.

Some old wagons and drays were scattered here and there about the place, for it presented an admirable wagon yard.

Such is cosmopolitan New York.

The palace often touches the hovel.

Some of the aristocrats up town can look out from their magnificent houses, and survey the shanty of the squatter built on the rocks, where the agile goat browses on old shoes and empty cans.

Some day this will not be, but it is so now, and a source of wonder to foreigners.

Darrell began to pick his way through the wagon yard, careful to proceed without noise, for when men are bent upon an unlawful errand it does not take much of a sound to cause palpitation of the heart, and he did not want to have their death on his hands—just yet.

They seemed to be surveying the scene from the rear.

It was undoubtedly their intention to make some sort of a haul here.

The silver might be lying around loose, or even some jewelry in the upper rooms—men of their trade do not discriminate, so long as what they seize upon has a specific value.

First, last and all the time, what they want is the cold cash.

It was certain that they must be frightened away, and that at once.

His other business was too important to allow him the pleasure of playing with these fellows, much as he might have enjoyed it.

Under these circumstances he worked his way close to where they crouched.

He could hear them working with a chisel or burglar’s tool of some sort—they were prying off a board from the fence, so that they might easily pass through when they desired.

It would be a good route for flight, also, after their object was attained.So interested were they in the task that they did not have the faintest suspicion of the presence of any one.

Darrell could hear their low words.

“Bill, this here promises to be a lucky strike,” said one, in a low tone.

Bill muttered a reply.

“Well, I’m of the opinion, Bill, as we’ll have a good whack at some valuables. Ye see, the guests are all in there—if we can deceive the gal below and slip upstairs there ought to be fat pickings for fellers of our size.”

“Softly, partner, softly—there’s another in this here game you ain’t counted on.”

As these words reached their ears, the two men muttered exclamations of dismay.

“Who the deuce is it?”

“Where in thunder is he?”

“I’m right here. You fellows are treading on my corns. This is my pasture—get out.”

“Not much we won’t. We’ll slit your wizen first, I reckon. We’re in this here game now for keeps,” growled the man named Bill.

“Then you must go snacks. I’ll furnish the information, and you do the work—an equalization of labor—ain’t that fair?”“What d’ye know, critter?”

“Where the silver is kept—it ain’t been brought out yet awhile, and by a little bold work the hull of it can be spirited away.”

At this the two men can hardly restrain their delight.

“Lead us to it, and the third is yourn.”

“You’re on the steal, then?”

“Ready to take anything that counts.”

“This is the steel I deal in.”

One of the men, the fellow nearest him, felt something like a piece of ice pressed against his left temple.

He put up his hand.

The investigation did not afford him any particular pleasure, for what he touched sent a shiver through his whole frame.

It was a cold revolver.

“Move a hand or a foot and you are a dead man. And you also,” to the other fellow.

The board had just come off in this latter chap’s arms, and light from the house poured through the opening in a stream that was strong enough to show him the situation.

He dared not drop the board, and he was also prevented from attacking the unknown.Eric was master of the situation.

“Now see here, men, listen to me.”

“Go ahead!” growled one.

“In mercy’s name don’t press that trigger,” groaned the other.

Darrell had to smile at the sudden termination to which circumstances had brought the bold raid of the two sneak thieves.

They had come after plunder, but found something more awaiting them.

The little scheme, concocted on the spur of the moment, had been driven into obscurity.

“I am a detective, watching this house.”

Both men groaned.

“Fools we was.”

“And although I’m going to let you go this time, if I see either of you here again you’ll make a bee-line for the Tombs.”

“Don’t worry, mister—if we get off this time we’ll make ourselves scarce. It gives me a chill to think of Sing Sing.”

“You ought to get the chill before you start on such an expedition, and not after you are caught. You know that when ‘the devil was sick, the devil a monk would be; but when the devil got well, the devil a monk was he’.”“Kin we go, mister?”

“Yes—pass out the front door, gentlemen, just as you came in. And, remember, once goes a long way with me—if you show up here again, down you go to Centre Street.”

“Thank ye, boss.”

The men crept quickly away—indeed, their haste was really ludicrous, for they seemed to have a deep-rooted fear lest he might be tempted to change his mind.

But under the circumstances Eric was quite satisfied to see them safely off the premises.

His other work would take up his attention, and he could not expect to amuse himself with such side-shows as these.

He once more made his way to the street.

As before a little knot of curious people stood in front of the house gazing in. The glimpses they caught of beautiful women and brave men were a revelation to them. It was like looking into Paradise. Otherwise the street was quiet.

A train boomed past on the elevated road below. Eric looked at his watch. It was a quarter past nine.

Three-quarters of an hour still remained, and then would come the grand climax.He began to breathe easier, for time was passing, and he felt sure their plans would come out all right.

Sauntering to the corner he saw the hack still there as he had left it.

The driver was sitting inside now.

He knew his orders and only waited for the proper time to arrive.

Where was Prescott?

Eric had expected to see him scouting around the Leslie mansion, but if the artist was there he had kept his person well concealed. Not yet had Eric doubted the motives that brought the other here.

Everything seemed to fit as snugly as though it had been made for it—when a carpenter makes a neat job he dove-tails the corners, and Darrell looked upon the many little things that connected so wonderfully, as the finishing touches of the joiner.

If a thunder cloud burst upon him it would certainly take him unawares, while the cool rain might be very acceptable.

He began to count the minutes.

Seldom had this man ever felt any such thing as nervousness in his life, but just now he certainly experienced a spell of it. The minutes seemed hours.

People walked along the street—he scrutinized every one as though he expected to see a ghost appear.

In reality he was looking for Prescott.

It worried him to know that the man was somewhere around and yet out of sight, though he did not doubt but what he would be on hand when needed.