Phelan measured him from the ground up as he filled his lungs for another outburst. "Why did yez send for me?" he demanded savagely. "This here little Japanaze come runnin' wild-eyed down me beat an' says there's two women been robbin' the house. What's all this monkey business?" "Bateato is mistaken," said Gladwin, forcing a laugh. "No, sir!" cried the Jap excitedly. "Ladies run off quick in big autbile"---- "Now wait--that's enough," Gladwin stopped him. "You tell me find plece," persisted the Jap, who saw the terrible wrath of Michael Phelan about to flash upon him. "That's enough," Gladwin sought to shut him up. "You say they steal--I go saloon"---- "Don't talk any more! Don't speak again! Go back to the hotel and wait for me. I'll send for you when I want you. Stop! Not another word." Bateato gripped his mouth with his fingers and stumbled out of the room. Avoiding the still glowering eye of Officer 666, Travers Gladwin turned to Barnes and attempted to say casually: "When Bateato gets an idea into his head there is no use arguing with him. There is only one thing to do--don't let him speak." The young man started to hum a tune and strolled toward the heavily curtained window that looked out on Fifth avenue. CHAPTER XXI. TRAVERS GLADWIN GOES IN SEARCH OF HIMSELF. Policeman Michael Phelan was at first undecided whether to pursue the departing Bateato and arrest him as a suspicious person or to remain on the scene of mystery and get to the bottom of what was going forward. He chose the latter plan upon the inspiration that if he arrested a millionaire he would get his name in the paper and Rose might read of it and come to some realization of the immensity of his official dignity. He was further urged to this course by the insolent nonchalance of the two young men. They weren't paying any more attention to him than they were to the inanimate sticks of furniture in the room. "Well, what did yez send fer me fer?" he broke out again, hurling the words at Travers Gladwin's back. "I thought you might like a drink," replied that young man, turning slowly and smiling upon the enraged bluecoat. "I never touch it," shot back Phelan, "an' that's no answer to me question." Gladwin stared at Phelan steadily a moment, his smile vanishing. As he measured the officer's height and build an idea came to him. His face lighted as he exclaimed: "I've got a great idea! Officer, I want you to do me a little favor. How would you like to make five hundred dollars?" If he had said four hundred dollars, or even four hundred and fifty, the effect would not have been half so great upon Michael Phelan. The mention of an even five hundred dollars, though, was the open sesame to the very depths of his emotions. Five hundred dollars represented the talisman that would lead him safe through Purgatory into the land of sweet enchantments. The fires of his wrath were instantly cooled and he said feebly: "Are yez tryin' to bribe me?"