Mr. Magee felt his hand grasped by a much smaller one, and before he knew it he had been hurried to the shadows of the landing. "The fifth key," whispered a scared little voice in his ear. And then he felt the faint brushing of finger-tips across his lips. A mad desire seized him to grasp those fingers and hold them on the lips they had scarcely touched. But the impulse was lost in the thrill of seeing the dining-room door thrown open and a great bulk of a man cross the floor of the office and stand beside Bland's chair. At his side was a thin waif who had not unjustly been termed the mayor of Reuton's shadow. "Asleep," bellowed the big man. "How's this for a watch-dog, Lou?" "Right on the job, ain't he?" sneered the thin one. Mr. Bland started suddenly from slumber, and looked up into the eyes of the newcomers. "Hello, Cargan," he said. "Hello, Lou. For the love of heaven, don't shout so. The place is full of them." "Full of what?" asked the mayor. "Of spotters, maybe--I don't know what they are. There's an old high-brow and a fresh young guy, and two women." "People," gasped the mayor. "People--here?" "Sure." "You're asleep, Bland." "No I'm not, Cargan," cried the haberdasher. "Look around for yourself. The inn's overrun with them." Cargan leaned weakly against a chair. "Well, what do you know about that," he said. "And they kept telling me Baldpate Inn was the best place--say, this is one on Andy Rutter. Why didn't you get it out and beat it?" "How could I?" Mr. Bland asked. "I haven't got the combination. The safe was left open for me. That was the agreement with Rutter." "You might have phoned us not to come," remarked Lou, with an uneasy glance around. Mr. Cargan hit the mantelpiece with his huge fist. "By heaven, no," he cried. "I'll lift it from under their very noses. I've done it before--I can do it now. I don't care who they are. They can't touch me. They can't touch Jim Cargan. I ain't afraid." Mr. Magee, on the landing, whispered into his companion's ear. "I think I'll go down and greet our guests." He felt her grasp his arm suddenly, as though in fear, but he shook off her hand and debonairly descended to the group below. "Good evening, gentlemen," he said suavely. "Welcome to Baldpate! Please don't attempt to explain--we're fed up on explanations now. You have the fifth key, of course. Welcome to our small but growing circle." The big man advanced threateningly. Mr. Magee saw that his face was very red, his neck very thick, but his mouth a cute little cupid's bow that might well have adorned a dainty baby in the park. "Who are you?" bellowed the mayor of Reuton in a tone meant to be cowering.