"Strange, and I here all the time! I may have dozed of, though. Certainly--certainly. Look for the little rascal. What's he stolen? Diamonds! Tut! tut! Enterprising, isn't he? ... Miss Omar, won't you kindly reach the bell yonder--no, on the table; that's it--and ring for some one to take the officer about?" I rang. Do you know what happened? An electric light strung on the tree above the table shone out, and there I stood under it with Moriway's eyes full upon me. "Great--!" he began. "Just ring again--" Mr. Latimer's voice came soft as silk. My fingers trembled so, the bell clattered out of them and fell jangling to the ground. But it rang. And the light above me went out like magic. I fell back into a garden chair. "I beg your pardon, Mr.--was Moriway the name?--I must have interrupted you, but my eyes are troubling me this evening, and I can't bear the light. Miss Omar, I thought the housekeeper had instructed you: one ring means lights, two mean I want Burnett. Here he comes... Burnett, take Sergeant Mulhill through the place. He's looking for a thief. You will accompany the Sergeant, Mr.--Moriway?" "Thank you--no. If you don't mind, I'll wait out here." That meant me. I moved toward the gate. "Not at all. Have a seat. Miss Omar, sit down, won't you?" I sat down. "Miss Omar reads to me, Mr. Moriway. I'm an invalid, as you see, dependent on the good offices of my man. I find a woman's voice a soothing change." "It must be. Particularly if the voice is pleasing. Miss Omar--I didn't quite catch the name--" He waited. But Miss Omar had nothing to say that minute. "Yes, that's the name. You've got it all right," said Latimer. "An uncommon name, isn't it?" "I don't think I ever heard it before. Do you know, Miss Omar, as I heard your voice just before we got to the gate, it sounded singularly boyish to me." "Mr. Latimer does not find it so--do you?" I said as sweet--as sweet as I could coax. How sweet's that, Tom Dorgan? "Not at all." A little laugh came from Latimer as though he was enjoying a joke all by himself. But Moriway jumped with satisfaction. He knew the voice all right. "Have you a brother, may I ask?" He leaned over and looked keenly at me. "I am an orphan," I said sadly, "with no relatives." "A pitiful position," sneered Moriway. "You look so much like a boy I know that--" "Do you really think so?" So awfully polite was Latimer to such a rat as Moriway. Why? Well, wait. "I can't agree with you. Do you know, I find Miss Omar very feminine. Of course, short hair--" "Her hair is short, then!" "Typhoid," I murmured. "Too bad!" Moriway sneered. "Yes," I snapped. "I thought it was at the time. My hair was very heavy and long, and I had a chance to sit in a window at Troyon's where they were advertising a hair tonic and--"