“Will you sit down?” Atherton asked, in tones of icy politeness. He pointed to a chair in the middle of the room, but his visitor smilingly shook his head and seated himself at one of the windows. “This will suit me better, I think,” the waiter answered blandly. “It will be easier for me to attract the attention of the people in the street--if I need to. Also,” he added, as he drew a loaded revolver from his pocket. “I shall feel more at home if I hold this in my hand while I talk.” Atherton shrugged his shoulders and seated himself in the chair which he had offered to the waiter. “Well, I’m waiting to hear why you have come to see me,” he said coldly. “Please be as brief as you can, for I can only spare you five minutes.” Max assumed an air of injured innocence. “What an ungrateful world it is!” he remarked, with a sigh. “Surely, I deserve a more cordial reception than this, considering the fact that only about twelve hours ago I saved you from arrest and ruin.” Atherton gave a perceptible start. “What do you mean?” he asked quickly. “I mean,” was the reply, “that it was I who fired that bullet which smashed Francis Massey’s wrist, and enabled you and your friends to escape.” His host jumped to his feet and planted himself in front of Max. “Is that true?” he demanded. The waiter nodded. “I was crouching outside the study window,” he explained, “when Massey burst into the room and covered you with his revolver. I slipped my own gun under the curtain, and drew a bead on him.” “But why were you outside the window? What were you doing at Massey’s place at that hour?” “It’s rather a long story,” Berne drawled. “If you’ll sit down again, I’ll tell you all about it.” Atherton hesitated, staring at him, then resumed his seat. Max began by explaining how for some time past he had suspected that Atherton and Frost were “in the know,” how he had kept watch on them, and how he had listened to their conversation in Frost’s room at the Marmawell. “I need not tell you,” he continued, “that what I heard more than confirmed my previous suspicions. I heard you tell Mr. Frost that you had ascertained that Massey had sent to the bank for the family jewels, and that his wife and daughters were going to wear them at the opera last night. You calculated, you said, that they would return to Meadowview about half past twelve, and that the stuff would be deposited for the night in the safe in Massey’s study.