“Atherton was right,” he muttered, under his breath. “A prize like that is worth the risk, even if the risk were ten times greater than it is.” By this time the Masseys had entered the house, and the butler had followed them. The footman exchanged a few words with the chauffeur, then he, too, disappeared, closing and locking the door behind him. The driver slipped in his clutch--the engine was still running--and a moment later the car vanished round the end of the house on its way to the garage at the back. Max glanced at his watch again, and thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “This is shaving it pretty closely,” he thought. “Atherton calculated that everybody would be fast asleep by half past one at latest, but it will be nearly quarter to three at this rate before they quiet down. And those fellows will be here at three.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid it can’t be done to-night,” his thoughts ran on. “However, I may as well wait until they show up, and see what happens.” The front of the house was all in darkness now, but presently lights appeared in three of the bedroom windows. “So they’ve gone straight to their rooms, as Massey said,” soliloquized the waiter, “but surely he’ll lock up the jewels before he turns in. Atherton said he always did----” The sentence was left unfinished, for at that moment lights sprang up in the entrance hall once more, and a little later one of the windows on the ground floor was illuminated. Curtains were drawn across the window, but they did not completely cover it, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Max stole up on the terrace and cautiously peered through into the room. Its fittings indicated that it was a combination of library and study--evidently Massey’s den or office. Books lined the walls, there was a big flat desk in the center, and a small safe to one side. At the moment when the lurking waiter peered into the room, Massey was in the act of opening the door of this safe. On a chair by his side was a tray, and on this tray lay a pile of leather cases, the appearance of which proclaimed that they contained the articles of jewelry which had recently adorned his wife and daughters, and which they must have turned over to him to lock up in the safe. It goes without saying that the jewels were not kept permanently in this safe. They were stored, as a rule, in the safe-deposit vaults connected with Massey’s bank in New York. They had been brought from the bank that afternoon, however, in order that Mrs. Massey and her daughters might wear them at the opera, and doubtless they would be taken to the bank the next day. In the meantime, for one night only, they were to repose in the safe at Meadowview. Plainly, that situation was the one for which Atherton had been waiting, and of which he had received advance information, thanks to his wife and intimate acquaintance with wealth and aristocracy.