"Your house!" gasped Phelan, rocked clear off the firm base he had scarcely planted himself on. "What do ye mean--who are yez?" "Who do you suppose I am? Travers Gladwin, of course." Even the fear-numbed Helen Burton was startled into animation by this amazingly nervy declaration and half rose from the chair she had been guided to and forced into by Gladwin when she seemed on the verge of swooning at Phelan's refusal to permit her to depart. Phelan expressed wonder and alarm in every feature and his arms flopped limply at his side as he muttered: "Travers Gladwin--youse!" "Don't listen to him, Phelan," cried Gladwin. "Shut up!" Phelan turned on him. "When I came home to-night," the thief pressed his advantage, "this man was here--robbing my house, dressed in your uniform--yes, and you yourself were helping him." "But I didn't know," whined the distressed Phelan, yielding himself utterly to the toils of the master prevaricator. "I don't think you did it intentionally--but why did you do it?" the thief let him down with a little less severity of emphasis. "He said he wanted to play a joke. He--he----" "Oh, don't be an idiot, Phelan," interposed Gladwin, putting his foot in it at the wrong time and receiving as his reward from the policeman a savage, "Close your face!" "Oh, playing a joke, was he?" said the thief, smiling. "And did he offer you money. Now, no evasion--you had better tell me." "Yes, sir," gulped Phelan, with murder in one eye for the real Gladwin and craven apology in the other for the impostor. "And you took it?" sharply. "Yes, sir." "Oh, officer! Shame! Shame!" in tones of shocked reproach. "Let me see what he gave you--come now, it's your only chance." Phelan hesitated, gulped some more, and at last produced the bill. The thief took it from his trembling but unresisting hand, unfurled it, turned it over, held it up close to his eyes and suddenly laughed: "Well, you certainly are easy--_counterfeit_!" "What!" roared Phelan, and Travers Gladwin joined him in the exclamation. "Will you swear that man gave you this bill?" cut in the thief, sharply, snatching out a pencil and marking the gold certificate across the corner. "I will, sorr!" shouted Phelan. "I will, an'----" "Very well! Now you see this mark in the corner--will you be able to identify it?" "Yes, sorr." Phelan was fairly grovelling. "Good," said the thief, and nonchalantly shoved the bill into his waistcoat pocket. "See here, Phelan," protested Gladwin. "Kape your mouth shut--I'd just like to take wan punch at yez." Phelan meant it and took a step toward Gladwin when the thief stopped him and asked: "Now, officer, is there anything I can do for you?" "Thank you, Mr. Gladwin--I got to get the patrol wagon here some way."