“No, you’re not,” observed the monocle-man easily. “Mr. Bennett is my friend. He has helped me immensely in this affair. Had he not projected his rather impetuous personality into it, certain difficulties would not have been smoothed out so easily. He created a diversion which threw the prisoner, naturally deep and resourceful, somewhat off his guard. But for Mr. Bennett’s whimsical and, at times, diverting conduct,” with a smile at Bob, “my fight against him,” nodding toward the cell, “might not have culminated quite so soon. So,” he added to the enraged medico, “Mr. Bennett has my full moral support, and, I may say,” touching the pocket into which he had returned that something bright, “my physical support as well.” “But what about the treatment I have received?” stormed the med. “Locked up like—?” “You shouldn’t have been prowling around. Anyhow, I shall advise my good friend, Mr. Bennett, that should you seek to annoy him further, or to lay a single finger on him, he will have an excellent case for damages. I can explain away a great deal that is inexplicable to the rest of you, and that explanation will serve fully to rehabilitate Mr. Bennett in the esteem of certain people as a not unnormal person. How far I can restore his popularity,” with a laugh, “is another matter.” Bob stared straight ahead. “How did you do it?” he said to the monocle-man. “What made you certain?” “I saw him place the ring in your pocket. Feel here,” walking over to Bob. The latter felt where the other indicated. “A little vest-pocket camera!” said the monocle-man softly. “I photographed the act—the outstretched hand with the ring in it!—you, unsuspecting, half sprawling over the green felt of the table! your coat tails inviting the ring—Besides, one of my men took the place of that outside-operator and received a certain little article of jewelry that night you came blundering back to Mrs. Ralston’s. We nabbed the outside-operator and—well, he’s told certain things.” With satisfaction. “We have, in short, a clear case.” Bob held his head. “It’s whirling,” he said. “I’ll get some things straightened out after a little, I suppose.” “That’s right,” observed the monocle-man. “There are some things you can’t straighten out,” said Dan in an ugly tone. “This is all very well for you, but what about us?” Just at that moment there was a flutter of skirts at the door. * * * * * Gee-gee and Gid-up came in, the former in a state of great agitation. “How dared you?” she gasped, going up to the monocle-man and standing with arms akimbo. “Send you that note, commanding your presence here?” said the monocle-man. “I dared, my dear,” he added slowly, “because I hold the cards.” “Don’t you ‘dear’ me,” she retorted stormily.