“Two!” I counted. “Be quiet.” Hawkins calmed down on the instant. “Was--was it the bell?” he whispered. Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! The gong up-stairs had chimed six times and stopped. I stared at Hawkins, and Hawkins at me, and the inventor's countenance went white. Far above, the evening calm was disturbed by a stamping and threshing noise, punctuated now and then by a muffled shout. “There!” cried the inventor. There was a wealth of satisfaction in that one word. “Well, somebody's caught,” I said. “You bet he is!” replied Hawkins, with a nervous chuckle. “Six bells--that's the top story back--one of the servants' rooms. Somebody must have thought the house deserted and come in from the roof.” Bang! Bang! Bang! The intruder wasn't submitting to the caresses of the crook-trap without a struggle. Also, from the volume and vigor of the racket, it was painfully clear that the intruder was a robust individual. “Well?” said Hawkins, still staring at me with a rigid smile. “Well?” “Well, we've got to go up there and capture him,” announced the inventor, gathering himself for the task. “Come on.” “Not just yet, thank you. We'll let the chloroform get in its work first.” “But don't you want to see the thing in actual operation?” “Hawkins, if any one could have less curiosity about anything than I have about seeing your crook-trap in operation----” “All right, stay down here if you like. I'm going up.” “Suppose your burglar gets loose?” I argued. “Suppose he has a big, wicked revolver, and learns that you're responsible for the way he's been handled?” Hawkins walked resolutely and silently toward the stairs. As for me, curiosity as to his fate bested my judgment. I followed. As we neared the top of the house, the thumping and hammering grew louder and more vicious; and when we finally stood outside the door, the din was actually deafening. “That's--that's either William's room or the cook's,” said Hawkins, with a slight quaver in his tones. “He's going it, isn't he?” “He certainly is. Let's stay here, Hawkins.” “No, sir. I'm going in to watch it. He's not loose, that's sure.” Hawkins opened the door very gently. Inside, the room was dark--not pitch dark, but that semi-gloom of a city room whose only light comes from an arc lamp half a block away. The air was heavy and sickening with the fumes of chloroform. They fairly sent my head a-reeling, but their effect upon the burglar seemed to have been nil. Over by the window a huge form was hurling itself to and fro, from wall to wall and back again, in the frantic endeavor to gain freedom. The bag enveloped his head and shoulders, but a mighty pair of arms within the bag were straining and tearing at the fabric, and a couple of long, muscular legs kicked madly at everything within reach. Every few seconds, too, a puffed oath added spice to the excitement, as the captive wrenched and strained.