"Yes," she answered, "I understand. There is no more to be said.

Good-day."

There was a step and the sound of the door closing. She had gone.

Alcatrante and the j.a.panese looked at each other. "We have not failed--yet," said Alcatrante in French. "The girl does not know where the doc.u.ments are, or she would not have come here. If her father does not have them before midnight our plans are safe. We remain merely at a loss as to the details of the doc.u.ments, and we already know what they contain in a general way."

"Yes," agreed the j.a.panese, "things do not look so black, perhaps. But I am interested in your former advice."

"Yes?"

"Find the American! That is what _she_ will try to do."

"We had an appointment with him this morning," said Alcatrante grimly, "but when you said that your man had the envelope, it no longer seemed necessary to go. We--you and I--still have the same object in view. I suggest that we now set out separately."

"As you wish," said the j.a.panese calmly. Doubtless he knew that Alcatrante was grasping at a straw which might still give him the advantage in future negotiations. "I am honored by your co-operation thus far." He bowed formally.

Alcatrante returned the bow and, beckoning to Poritol, left the room.

The j.a.panese minister turned to Arima and talked rapidly in his native tongue. From his manner it was plain that he was giving orders. At last, with a little gesture of authority, he put on his hat and walked out. The door closed after him with a slam.

Arima, now alone, seated himself in a chair and appeared to meditate.

Again his hands were clasped about his knees and his beady eyes fixed on s.p.a.ce. For fully fifteen minutes he sat thus; then, with a little clucking sound, he leaped to his feet and hurried into the next room.

Now was Orme's chance. He lifted the table-cover and rose to his feet.

Arima had not closed the door after him, but Orme was not in the line of direct view into the other room, and he had to risk the possibility of being seen before he reached the window.

Or should he try for the door? It all depended upon what part of the next room Arima was in; but the window seemed safer, for the opening and closing of the door would be sure to attract attention.

Orme moved toward the window slowly, watching the opening through which Arima had disappeared. He got half-way to the window; three more steps would bring him to the sill. And then, without warning, Arima leaped into the room. Even in that moment Orme caught a glimpse of a mirror in the farther room, and knew that the j.a.panese had seen his reflection.

At this instant another man appeared, close behind Arima. A bandage was wrapped around his head. It was Maku, who presumably had been in the apartment all the time.

Orme stood little chance of overcoming the two. Quick as cats, with muscles like steel springs and a great variety of scientific tricks of offense and defense, they could handle him as they willed in a direct encounter. If Orme had had a revolver, he would now have drawn it. Yet he knew that this was not a case for fire-arms. Obviously, if he used a dangerous weapon in these men's rooms and was afterward caught, it would fare hard with him, for the real facts would be suppressed and he would be sentenced as an ordinary housebreaker, perhaps with some clemency due to his personal standing.

A quick intuition told him that he would not escape lightly if they fairly got their hands on him. The two j.a.panese had hitherto shown much patience with him. Their desire seemed to have been to avoid hurting him any more than was necessary. But there is a limit to j.a.panese patience.

The scathing words of the j.a.panese minister must still be burning in Arima's brain. And Maku, who had controlled himself while Orme was following him through the streets of the North Side, no longer had a diplomatic reason for restraining his rage against the man who had struck him down. In any event, the eyes of Arima and Maku glittered angrily, and Orme realized that he could expect no mercy.

He caught up a chair and raised it over his head, prepared to bring it down on Arima, who was only a few feet from him and coming fast.

The j.a.panese raised his arms, to fend the expected blow. With sudden inspiration, Orme hurled the chair at his opponent's feet. There was a crash. Arima sprawled headlong. Maku, who was close behind, tried to leap over Arima, but his feet went through the rungs of the chair, and he, too, crashed to the floor.

As he threw the chair Orme leaped back. Before the j.a.panese could get out of their tangle, he had jumped over the window-sill and was running up the fire-escape. Madame Alia, was at her window, a look of startled inquiry on her face. She stepped back as he crowded into the room.

"Quick!" he said. "They'll be after me. Hide me somewhere."

"Come!" She took his sleeve and pulled him to a corner. There she pushed aside the dingy hanging and Orme saw that the wall was covered with a wainscoting that ran from floor to ceiling.

The medium looked at him with bright eyes. "You're the real sort," she whispered, and a wave of color in her cheeks brought back the suggestion of girlish beauty. "I saw that sc.r.a.p there through a hole in the floor.

You're the goods." She pressed his arm almost affectionately, then, with her free hand, she pushed against the paneling. Noiselessly a section of it turned inward, disclosing a dark cavity. "Get in!"

Orme quickly slipped into the darkness, the panel closed, and he heard the swish of the hanging as it dropped back against the board.

It was not too soon. Two soft thuds told him that the j.a.panese had dropped over the sill into the room.

He heard the woman give a well-feigned scream of surprise.

"'Scuse us, miss,"--it was Arima's voice--"we looking for sneak thief. He come in here."

"Be off with you. I've just come from the front room there, and there wasn't a soul came in."

"We saw him."

"He must have gone out to the hall, then." The woman's voice had a note of mollification--as though she had suddenly recognized the right of the two j.a.panese to enter the apartment. "_I_ didn't hear him."

A few words of j.a.panese colloquy; then Arima: "I look around. My friend go to hall." A door closed; evidently Maku had gone out; and then Orme heard steps. After this there was a long wait, while the j.a.panese examined the other rooms, the woman evidently offering him her aid. At last they returned.

"Well, I go back," said Arima. "I saw him come in the window. My friend will know. See you later."

Presently the woman raised the hanging and whispered through the boards: "He went back down the fire-escape. His friend's in the hall. He'll find out you haven't went down, and then he'll come back."

"I'll try the roof," whispered Orme. "Perhaps I can get on to another house that way."

"Wait till I see." She walked away, but soon returned.

"No use," he heard her say. "That j.a.p's a sitting on the fire-escape watching. He grinned when I looked down."

Orme pondered. "Help me out of this," he whispered, "and there'll be something in it for you."

She moved impatiently. "Cut it out! I don't want nothing. You're a good sport, that's all." She paused. "Not that I'd mind having a present. But I don't want no money."

Orme caught the distinction. "I'll remember," he said. "And what shall I do now?"

"You'll have to stay in there a while, I guess."

"I simply must get away--and within an hour or two."

"I'll manage that," she answered confidently.

"But how----?"

"You'll see. Just leave it to me."

Orme smiled to himself, there in the darkness. Of course, he would leave it to her; but he did not see how she was to rid him of the watchful j.a.panese.

"There's just one thing," he whispered. "Whatever is done, will have to be done without help from outside. This is not a matter for the police."

"I understand. Why can't you just leave it to me? I don't believe you trust me a little bit!"