“You’ve wasted valuable time,” he declared. “In robberies, it is advisable to get the authorities on the scene of the crime at the earliest possible moment.” “But in this instance the circumstances were so peculiar and I——” “I know. I know, madam. Circumstances always are more or less peculiar.” Pape had deemed a touch of official discourtesy not out of place. “What I want to know next is—that is to say, the person I’d like next to interview is this niece of yours who has been deprived of her snuffbox.” CHAPTER VIII—EMPTY Pape, the while, had grown most anxious to know the exact whereabouts of the young woman in the case. He found it nervous work, this expecting her appearance every minute—this playing the detective when she, with one glance, could detect him. Would she or would she not expose him? The full imperativeness of the question was in the gaze he bent upon the matron. “Miss Lauderdale will soon be down, I am sure. She went to her room to change her gown.” “And why, pray, should she bother changing her gown at a time like this? The one she had on was very—I mean to say, wasn’t the one she had on becoming?” This demand Mrs. Sturgis met with an increase of dignity. “We thought it might be necessary for her to go to Police Headquarters or whatever it is you call the place where one swears to complaints. I’ll send her word to hurry if you wish.” Pape did wish. However, the sending of word to that effect proved unnecessary. Even as Mrs. Sturgis was crossing the room to ring for Jasper, Jane entered, dressed in a black and white checked skirt and loose white silk blouse. At sight of the caller she stopped short. “Well, I’ll be ——” “Oh no, you won’t, Miss Lauderdale—I believe?” Pape’s advance had interrupted her ejaculation. “You’re too much of a lady for that and far too good a sport to—to be in despair over your loss. The game is young yet and I am here to win it.” Although his tone was pompous, the eyes he fixed on her outraged expression were urgent, imploring. Yet at the moment she did not look much as though she had dropped the note as summons No. 2. Twice her lips opened in angry hesitation. But her aunt interrupted before she actually spoke. “I was just about to send Jasper up for you, my dear,” she said. “Mind your nerves, now. This is an operative who has come over from The Arsenal to solve our mystery. Mr. Pope, Miss Lauderdale.” “Pape, you mean,” Jane corrected, then bit her lip. “Of course, I mean Pape. I am _so_ bad at names, Mr. Pape. Here I’ve been calling you Pope. But, Jane dear, how could you know?” The ensuing slight pause was shattered by the soundless insistence of a pair of gray eyes addressing a pair of tropic blue: “Play my game. It’s a good game. Why not—_why not_ play my game?” “Jasper told me.”