The manager greeted his two visitors without enthusiasm. He was a small, worried-looking man, with pale face, hooked nose and shiny black hair. He had recently changed his name from Jonas to Joyce, without materially affecting the impression which he made upon the stranger. "This is Mr. Crawshay," Brightman began, "who has charge from the Government point of view, of the little matter you and I know about." The manager shook hands limply. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Crawshay," he said, "but a little disturbed at the cause. I must say that I hope you will find your impressions ill-founded. I don't like things of this sort happening in my house." "Might happen anywhere," Mr. Brightman declared, with an attempt at cheerfulness. "By-the-by, Mr. Joyce, I hope you got my note?" The manager nodded. "Yes," he assented, "I've made all the arrangements you wished, and the box has not been entered except by the cleaner." "Mr. Thew himself, then, has made no attempt to visit it?" Crawshay enquired. "Not to my knowledge," was the brusque reply. The two men took their leave, strolled along the vestibule, glanced at the closed door of the box and made their way down into the stalls. "Our friend must be exceedingly confident," Brightman remarked musingly. "Or else we are on the wrong tack," Crawshay put in. "As to that we shall see! I don't like to seem over-sanguine," Brightman went on, "but my impression is that he is rather up against it." "All I can say is that he is taking it very coolly, then!" "To all appearance, yes. But whereas it is quite true that he has made no attempt to get at the box, Joyce didn't tell us--as a matter of fact, I don't suppose he knows--that three times Jocelyn Thew has visited the theatre under some pretext or other, and spotted my men about. From half-an-hour after his bid at the fete, that box has been as inaccessible to him as though it had been walled up." They took their seats in the stalls, which were now rapidly filling. About five minutes later, Jocelyn Thew arrived alone. The box opener brought him from the vestibule, and an amateur programme seller accepted his sovereign--both, in view of the many rumours floating about the place, regarding him with much curiosity. Without any appearance of hurry he entered the much-discussed box, divested himself of his coat and hat, and stood for a moment in full view, looking around the house. His eyes rested for a moment upon the figures of the two men below, and a very grim smile parted his lips. He stepped a little into the background and remained for some time out of sight. Brightman's interest became intense. "From this moment he is our man," he whispered. "All the same, I should have liked to have seen where he has hidden the papers. I went round the box myself without finding a thing."