He had arrived just in time to see Jane Ardley come out of the back door of the house, from which she walked away several yards, and then turned to gaze up intently at an attic window, so intently and for so long a time, in fact, that Chick naturally gazed in the same direction, wondering what occasioned her interest. He then saw that the attic window was closely curtained. He could see, too, that the curtain evidently was held in place with several wooden slats running across it and nailed to the casing. “By Jove, that window is barred,” he said to himself. “The woman is looking to see whether it can be detected from outside, or for some other equally suspicious reason. It’s dead open and shut, therefore, that some one is confined in that attic room. Is it Clara Clayton, or has Nick met with some mishap and fallen into the hands of a gang? There now seems to be no one around here but the woman. By thunder, I’ll mighty soon find out.” Chick whipped out a revolver and thrust it into his side pocket. Jane Ardley had retraced her steps and was entering the back door of the house. She left it open and passed through the kitchen. Chick saw her disappear into a room beyond the kitchen, and he instantly seized the opportunity presented. He darted across the clearing and crouched for a moment near the open door. Listening, he could hear the woman moving in an interior room, but there was no sound of voices. “She’s alone here, all right, barring whoever is on the top floor,” Chick reasoned. “I’ll get her, for a starter, and then look farther.” He did not defer operations. He was in a proper mood for aggressive action. He stole quickly through the kitchen and to the open door of the adjoining room, in which Jane Ardley then was engaged in clearing the breakfast table. The floor creaked under Chick’s weight, and the woman turned and saw him. As quick as a flash she seized a knife from the table and snarled savagely: “Who in thunder are you?” “Tell me, instead, who you are and who is confined in your attic,” Chick sternly answered. Before the last was fairly uttered, however, the woman went ghastly white, then dropped the knife and turned toward the nearest window. That she was going to scream for help was obvious, and Chick’s face turned as hard as flint. He reached the woman with a bound, seized her by the throat to prevent any outcry, and forced her against the wall in one corner. “You utter a sound, you jade, and I’ll silence you with a blow,” he threatened fiercely. Gasping for breath, with abject fear now manifest in her evil eyes, the woman ceased struggling, and Chick quickly handcuffed her arms behind her and forced her into a small closet near by. “Now tell me the truth,” he said sternly. “Who else is in the house, and where----” “You’ll get nothing from me,” the woman snarled between her teeth, glaring at him with impotent fury. “Won’t I?” snapped Chick. “I’ll not wait, then, to argue the point.”