"You will make a capital comrade--if we ever get out of this cellar." "Trust me for that!" I replied gaily. "Be careful; there's a pile of empty bottles, yearning to be filled with tomato-catsup. Give me your hand." But the moment the little digits closed over mine, a thrill seized me, and I quickly bent my head and kissed the hand. It was wrong, but I could not help it. She neither spoke nor withdrew her hand; and my fear that she might really be offended vanished. "We are nearly out of it," I said exultantly. "I see the cellar-stairs on ahead. If only those doors are open!" "Heaven is merciful to the fool, and we are a pair," she replied, sighing gratefully. "It seems strange that nobody should be in the cellar on a night like this. Hark! They are playing again up stairs in the ball-room." "And wondering a whole lot where that third ten of hearts has gone." "But, listen. How are we to get back to the trolley? We certainly can not walk the distance in these clothes." "Oh, that carryall will come to our rescue. We are weary and are leaving early, don't you know? That part is simple; the complicated thing is to shake the dust of this cellar." "What a big furnace!" she exclaimed, as we came into view of the huge heating apparatus. "And there's more coal." A man stepped out from behind the furnace, and confronted us. A red bandana covered the lower part of his face and his hat was pulled down over his eyes. But I recognized him instantly. It was the fellow with the villainous pipe! Something glittered ominously at the end of his outstretched arm. "If you make any noise, sir, I'll have to plug you, sir," he said in polite but muffled tones. The candle slipped from my fingers, and the three of us stood in darkness! V There was a clicking sound, and the glare of a dark-lantern struck my blinking eyes. "Pick up the candle, sir," said the tranquil voice from behind the light. I obeyed readily enough. Fate was downright cruel to us. Not a dozen feet away was liberty; and now we were back at the beginning again, with the end nowhere in sight. "Shall I light it, sir?" I asked, not to be outdone in the matter of formal politeness. "Yes, sir, doubtless you will need it." I struck a match and touched the candle-wick. "Burglar?" said I. (For all my apparent coolness, my heart-beats were away up in the eighties!) The girl snuggled close to my side. I could feel her heart beating even faster than mine. "Burglar?" I repeated. "Indeed, no, sir,"--reproachfully. "Mine is a political job." "A political job?"--thunderstruck. "Yes, sir; I am an inspector of cellars,"--grimly. "I couldn't get around to this here cellar earlier in the day, sir, and a fellow's work _must_ be done." Here was a burglar with the sense of humor. "What can I do for you?" I asked blandly. "Firstly, as they say, you might tell me what you and this lady _are_ doing in this lonesome cellar." "Say 'sir,' when you address me." "Yes, sir."