He was turning away when Clifford sprang through the doorway and upon him. Clifford seized his right wrist and swung the arm upward and backward with a vicious twist--an old police trick--and thrust a hand through the flaring front of the exquisitely tailored coat and possessed himself of the bank-notes. Hilton’s stick and hat went flying; he let out a cry of surprise and pain; but before he knew what had happened to him there had snapped about his wrists a pair of handcuffs. Clifford jerked him forward, so that their faces were within a foot of each other. “Well, Hilton, this time I’ve got you with the goods on!” he snapped. “This will be the last woman you’ll squeeze money out of for about five years!” “See here, I’ve done nothing,” gasped the breathless Hilton. “That’s my own money--I had it when I came here.” Clifford turned to Mary. “I warned you what he was--one of the cleverest of that new trade whose specialty is squeezing big money out of women!” “He’s done nothing,” Mary affirmed, looking directly at Clifford. “You--how did you get in here? I heard no ring.” “Pass-key. That story doesn’t go, Mrs. Grayson--it doesn’t go, Hilton. I was right on Hilton’s heels when he entered. I heard him demand the money on threat of exposure. I saw the money passed.” He turned abruptly on Loveman. “And you, Loveman, you fit into this pretty little game, too!” “Me, Bob, my dear boy?” protested Loveman. “Why is it,” he demanded, in a tone of mourning, “that the innocent bystander is the one that always gets the copper’s stick over his new spring derby?” “Your suspicions against Mr. Loveman--” began Mary. “Don’t say a word, Mrs. Grayson,” Loveman cut in quickly. “Your suspicions against Mr. Loveman are mistaken,” persisted Mary. “Mr. Loveman gave me that money.” “Gave you the money!” exclaimed Clifford. “Mrs. Grayson!” appealed Loveman. But Mary went on, speaking very steadily and with a formal precision. “You are right about Mr. Hilton. He came yesterday afternoon, demanding money which had to be paid by half-past five to-day. I at first refused; afterwards I recognized I didn’t dare not pay. I did not know where to get such a sum, so I telephoned Mr. Loveman that I wished to see him. He came at once, and I told him of my situation and that I could not possibly raise the amount upon such short notice. Jack did not have the money, and I could not have asked him for the amount, anyhow; and my uncle is away out on the coast. I asked Mr. Loveman’s advice. He saw my predicament, and himself offered to give me the money. Half an hour ago he came, bringing the money which you have. I believe that completely exonerates Mr. Loveman.” “Yes, Bob,” Loveman said cheerfully, “I guess that lets me out.”