He opened the door quietly and looked out. The corridor was empty. He beckoned the girl. “Bring only the jewel-case,” he said. “I have the money and the necklace in my pocket.” After closing and locking the door behind them, they passed down the corridor, not in the direction of the lift or the stairs, but towards a smaller pair of stairs, which was used as an emergency exit, in case of fire. They did not attempt to descend, but went up three flights, till they emerged on a flat roof, which commanded an excellent view of the West End of London. Steele led the way. He had evidently reconnoitred the way, and did not once hesitate. The low roof ended abruptly in a wall on to which he climbed, assisting the girl after him. They had to cross a little neck of sloping ledge, before they came to a much more difficult foothold, a slate roof, protected only by a low parapet. They stepped gingerly along this, until they came to a skylight, which Steele lifted. “Down you go,” he said, and helped the girl to drop into the room below them. He waited only long enough to secure the skylight, and then he followed the girl through the unfurnished room into which they had dropped, on to a landing. In the meantime, Peter’s assistant had grown nervous, and had come up to the room, and knocked. Getting no answer, he had broken in the door, to find his chief lying still conscious but helpless where he had been left. The rough-and-ready method of resuscitation to which the detective resorted, shook the drugged man from his sleep, and a doctor, hastily summoned, brought him back to normality. He was still shaky, however, when he recounted the happenings. “They haven’t passed out of the hotel, that I’ll swear,” said the detective. “We’re watching every entrance, including the staff entrance. How did it occur?” Peter shook his head. “I went like a lamb to the slaughter,” he said, smiling grimly. “It was the promise of a confession, and my infernal curiosity which made me stay--to smoke a doped cigarette, too!” He thought a moment. “I don’t suppose they depended entirely on the cigarette, though,” he said. “And maybe it would have been a little more unpleasant for me, if I hadn’t smoked.” An hour after he was well enough to conduct personally a search of the hotel premises. From cellar to roof he went, followed by two assistants, and it was not until he was actually on the roof that he discovered any clue. It was a small piece of beadwork against the wall which the girl had climbed, and which had been torn off in her exertions. They passed along the neck, and along the sloping roof till they came to the skylight, and this Peter forced.