Whether the room was taken for this purpose was a question. If it was then the idea had been in Chapman’s mind for weeks—it was the "coming back" he had hinted at when he left Grasslands. If, however, it had been hired as a place of rendezvous with his confederate, it had assisted them in the carrying out of their plot—might indeed have suggested it. For as a lair in which to lie low it offered every advantage—secluded, inconspicuous, the rest of the floor untenanted. They could keep the child there without rousing a suspicion, for if Chapman was with her—and they took for granted that he was—she would be contented and make no outcry. She loved him and was happy in his society. "Poor devil!" growled the old man. "You can’t help being sorry for him, even if he did do it to hit back. It’s his child and he’s fond of her." George gave a short laugh: "I fancy it’s more the hitting back than the fondness. Chapman’s not shown up lately in a very sentimental light. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d ransom in the back of his mind. But we’ll put an end to his ambitions or parental longings or whatever’s inspiring him." He looked at his watch, then rose. "It’s a quarter past seven and O’Malley’s due at the half hour. It’s understood we’re to bring the child here first?" His father gave an assenting grunt and hitched his chair into the current of air from the fan. George turned on the lights, their tempered radiance flooding the room, the windows starting out as black squares sewn with stars. "I don’t quite see what I’m going to say to him," he muttered, a sidelong eye on his father. "Say nothing," came the answer. "Bring the child back here—that’s your job. Leave him to me. Mrs. Janney and I’ll have it out with him when the time comes." On the tick of half-past seven O’Malley appeared. Trickles of perspiration ran down his red face, and his collar was melted to a sodden band. "Gee," he panted as he ran a handkerchief round his neck, "it’s like a Turkish bath down there in the street." "Well," said George, impatient of all but the main issue, "is it all right?" "Yep—I’ve left two men in charge—every exit’s covered. And there’s only one they could use—no way out back except over the fences and through other houses." "He could hardly tackle that with a child." "He couldn’t tackle it alone and make it—not the way I’ve got things fixed. And I’ve worked out our line of action; Stebbins relieved me at half-past six and I went and had a séance with the janitor. Said I was coming round later with a man who was looking for a room—the room I’d been inquiring about. That’ll let us in quiet; right up to the top floor and no questions asked." "The only hitch possible can come from Chapman—he may be ugly and show his teeth." The old man answered: "I guess he’ll be tractable. If he’s inclined to argue bring him along with you. It’s after eight. I don’t want to sit here half the night. Get busy and go."