Now came the next move, which he had had in mind from the first, and for which he had come fully prepared. He took from his pockets a coil of thin wire and a small pad of cloth like that with which he had administered the chloroform. The pad he put in Portersham’s mouth, fastening it with a twist of the wire around his head. Then he secured the arms and legs with the wire, making sure that the acting governor would not be able to get free, even if he should come to his senses. “So far, good!” was his savage comment. “I shall have to put him where he won’t be seen too quickly if any one comes in.” It was easy for the athletic Apache to lift the young man from the chair and stow him under the large library table. “I’ll pile up these magazines and papers in front of him. Then he will be masked in. I hope he’ll be comfortable under there, too.” He grinned at this brutal jest, and heaped a few more papers under the table, hiding his victim completely. “With the wires on him, and the dose of dope he has in his system, he will be safe enough for a while,” he reflected. “Now I come to the real risk of the job. I’m glad I’m not deficient in nerve.” He looked around him, felt in all the pockets of the clothing he had taken off to make sure he had everything out--including the bags of jewelry--patted his chest to assure himself that the flat bag was in its place under his shirt, and pushed his discarded garments under the table with the senseless Portersham. “Now for it!” he breathed softly. He opened the door without any noise and stepped into the hallway. His heart beat a little faster than usual, but he never faltered in what he had set himself to do. Neither did he show in his demeanor what a strain there was upon even his steely nerves. Briggs was sitting inside a small room off the hall that was his particular domain. The door was open, so that the butler could see everybody who might pass up and down. His orders were to make sure no one loafed about the palace unless he had business there. As a public building, many strangers were in the palace during the day. But in the late afternoon and evening, when official business was suspended for the day, only those living in the house, or authorized visitors, could be permitted to remain. Briggs jumped to his feet and stood in the hall, waiting for orders, as he saw the supposed acting governor coming along from his room. Rayne was obliged to grip himself as he came face to face with Briggs. This butler was more than a mere servant. He was expected to take on himself the duties of a detective, and, naturally, he was disposed to be suspicious. The Apache took the bull by the horns. “Is my secretary in?” he asked sharply--and his imitation of the tones of Jabez Portersham was marvelous. “Yes, sir,” answered Briggs. “Mr. Morlein is in his office. Shall I send him to you?”