"No one that I know of at the moment," she answered. "It used to belong to a mad doctor. I don't mean a doctor who was mad, but----" "No matter about his sanity. Is he dead?" "No, in prison. There was a trial two years ago." "Oh! I remember the affair. A patient was beaten to death. So the house is empty?" "It is, unless some one has rented it recently. I was taken through the place months ago. The rooms are all right, and it has beautiful grounds, but the windows frightened me. They were closely barred with iron, and the doors were covered with locks and chains. There were some old beds there, too, with straps on them. Oh, I quite shivered!" "After we have eaten will you let us drive you in that direction in my car?" said Carshaw. She simpered and blushed slightly. "I've an appointment with a friend," she admitted, wondering whether the swain would protest too strongly if she accepted the invitation. "Bring him also," said Carshaw. "I assume it's a 'he.'" "Oh, that'll be all right!" she cried. So in the deepening gloom the automobile flared with fierce eyes along the quiet road to Gateway House, and in its seat of honor sat the hotel maid and her young man. "That is the place," she said, after the, to her, all too brief run. "Is this the only entrance?" demanded the chief, as he stepped out to try the gate. "Yes. The high wall runs right round the property. It's quite a big place." "Locked!" he announced. "Probably empty, too." He tried squinting through the keyhole to catch a gleam of interior light. "No use in doin' that," announced the young man. "The house stands way back, an' is hidden by trees." "I mean having a look at it, wall or no wall," insisted Carshaw. "But the gate is spiked and the wall covered with broken glass," said the girl. "Such obstacles can be surmounted by ladders and folded tarpaulins, or even thick overcoats," observed Steingall. "I'm a plumber," said the East Orange man. "If you care to run back to my place, I c'n give you a telescope ladder and a tarpaulin. But perhaps we may butt into trouble?" "For shame, Jim! I thought you'd do a little thing like that to help a girl in distress." "First I've heard of any girl." "My name is Carshaw," came the prompt assurance. "Here's my card; read it by the lamp there. I'll guarantee you against consequences, pay any damages, and reward you if our search yields results." "Jim--" commenced the girl reproachfully, but he stayed her with a squeeze. "Cut it out, Polly," he said. "You don't wish me to start housebreaking, do you? But if there's a lady to be helped, an' Mr. Carshaw says it's O.K., I'm on. A fellow who was with Funston in the Philippines won't sidestep a little job of that sort." Polly, appeased and delighted with the adventure, giggled. "I'd think not, indeed."