He took the package from his pocket. Its seals had already been broken. Untying the strings, he began carefully to unwrap the paper--the thick yellow banking manila, and then the oiled inner wrapping. So finally he opened up the solid mass of--what? He looked closer. Crisp, beautiful, one thousand dollar bills. Whew! He had never seen a bill of this size before. And here were two hundred of them. He wrapped the package up once more, and prepared for bed. Just as he was about to retire, he remembered Mr. Bland, bound and gagged below. He went into the hall with the idea of releasing the unlucky haberdasher, but from the office rose the voices of the mayor, Max, and Bland himself. Peace, evidently, had been declared between them. Mr. Magee returned to number seven, locked all the windows, placed the much-sought package beneath his pillow, and after a half-hour of puzzling and tossing, fell asleep. It was still quite dark when he awoke with a start. In the blackness he could make out a figure standing by the side of his bed. He put his hand quickly beneath his pillow; the package was still there. "What do you want?" he asked, sitting up in bed. For answer, the intruder sprang through the door and disappeared in the darkness of the outer room. Mr. Magee followed. One of his windows slammed back and forth in the wind. Slipping on a dressing-gown and lighting a candle, he made an investigation. The glass above the lock had been broken. Outside, in the snow on the balcony, were recent footprints. Sleepily Mr. Magee procured the precious package and put it in the pocket of his gown. Then drawing on his shoes, he added a greatcoat to his equipment, took a candle, and went out on to the balcony. The storm had increased; the snow flurried and blustered; the windows of Baldpate Inn rattled wildly all about. It was difficult to keep the candle burning in that wind. Mr. Magee followed the footprints along the east side of the inn to the corner, then along the more sheltered rear, and finally to the west side. On the west was a rather unlovely annex to the main building, which increasing patronage had made necessary. It was connected with the inn by a covered passageway from the second floor balcony. At the entrance to this passageway the footprints stopped. Entering the dark passageway, Mr. Magee made his way to the door of the annex. He tried it. It was locked. But as he turned away, he heard voices on the other side. Mr. Magee had barely enough time to extinguish his candle and slip into the shadows of the corner. The door of the annex opened. A man stepped out into the passageway. He stood there The light from a candle held by some one in the doorway whom Mr. Magee could not see fell full upon his face--the bespectacled wise face of Professor Thaddeus Bolton. "Better luck next time," said the professor. "Keep an eye an him," said the voice from inside. "If he tries to leave the inn there'll be a big row. We must be in on it--and win."