"It's too big a risk," panted Phelan, producing an elaborate bandana and mopping his brow. "I won't do it." It was manifest that Officer 666 was sorely tempted. To goad him further Travers Gladwin produced a little roll of yellow-backed bills from his pocket. Fluttering the bills deftly he stripped off one engraved with an "M" in one corner and "500" in the other. He turned it about several ways so that Phelan could study it from all angles. Then he fluttered it before Whitney Barnes and said: "Say, Barnes, there's something really handsome about these yellow-backs, isn't there? Notice how that five and those two naughts are engraved? And it's amazing how much a slip of paper like this will buy." This was too much for Phelan. He reached for the bill and grabbed it, stuffed it into his trousers pocket and began unbuttoning his coat. Suddenly he stopped. "Say," he sputtered. "S'pose there should be a robbery on my beat?" "That would be fine," said Gladwin. "I'd be a credit to you." "Or a murder?" "Better still." "Oh, the risk is awful," groaned Phelan. He started to button up his coat again when Rose's taunt came back to him. This time the tempter delivered a vital blow and he tore off his uniform coat and passed it to the young man. Gladwin slipped it on over his other clothes. It fitted snugly. It just happened that the suit he wore was dark blue and his trousers matched accurately. "Now the bonnet," he said, reaching for the uniform cap and removing it from Phelan's head. "And now officer, your sword." He grasped the proffered belt and buckled it on with a flourish, making as natty a figure of a cub policeman as one would want to meet. Phelan stood looking on dumbly, his face a study in conflicting emotions. Barnes's admiration of his friend's nerve was beyond power of words. When Gladwin started for the doorway, however, he called after him: "Hey there, Travers, where are you going?" "On duty," he responded cheerily. "And by the way, Whitney, give Mr. Phelan that tray and decanter and see that he goes down into the kitchen and stays there until my return. You remain on guard up here. I'll look after the outside. So long, mates." "Hold on," Phelan called out feebly. "I'd like to know what the divvil it all means. I'm fair hypnotized." "It means," said Gladwin, pausing and turning his head, "that I'm going outside to wait for myself--and if I find myself, I'll arrest myself--if both myself and I have to go to jail for it. Now, do you get me?" "No, I'll be damned if I do!" gurgled Phelan, but the words had scarcely passed his lips when the departmental guise of Officer 666 vanished from sight and the front door slammed with a bang. CHAPTER XXII. A MILLIONAIRE POLICEMAN ON PATROL.