"But I shall be found with you, and the stupid police will swear I am
an accomplice." She wrung her hands.
"But no jewels will be found upon us," I argued half-heartedly.
"They will say we have already disposed of them."
"But the real burglar--"
"They will say that he came into the cellar at our bidding."
This girl was terribly reasonable and direct.
"Hang it! I know Teddy Hamilton, the M. F. H. He'll go my bail, and
yours, too, for that matter. Come, let's not give up. There must be
some other way out."
"I wish I might believe it. Why did I come?"--a bit of a wail
stealing into the anger in her voice.
"This is Tom Fool's Night, and no mistake," I assented ruefully.
"But I am a bigger fool than you are; I had an alibi, and a good one."
"An alibi? Why on earth, then, did you follow me? What is your alibi?"
"Never mind now. We should still be in this miserable
cellar,"--briefly. "What a night! I am so ashamed! I shall be
horribly compromised."
"I'll take the brunt of it all. I'm sorry; but, for the love of
Heaven, don't cry, or I shall lose what little nerve I have left."
"I am not crying!" she denied emphatically. "My inclination is to
shriek with laughter. I'm hysterical. And who wouldn't be, with
police officers and cells staring one in the face? Let us be going.
That policeman outside will presently hear us whispering if we stand
here much longer."
There was wisdom in this. So, once again I took the candle, and we
marched back. There wasn't a single jest left in my whole system, and
it didn't look as if there was ever going to be another supply. We
took the other side of the furnace, and at length came to a flight of
wooden stairs, leading somewhere into the club. It was our last
chance, or we should indeed be obliged to stay all night in some bin;
for it would not be long before they searched the cellars. If this
flight led into the kitchen, we were saved, for I could bluff the
servants. We paused. Presently we ascended, side by side, with light
but firm step. We reached the landing in front of the door without
mishap. From somewhere came a puff of air which blew out the candle.
I struck a match viciously against the wall---and blundered into a
string of cooking-pans! It was all over, the agony of suspense!