ROBERTS, walking up and down in great distress: ‘I can’t do it; I can’t do it. It’s very kind of you to think it all out for me, but’—struck by a sudden idea—‘Willis, why shouldn’t _you_ do it?’ WILLIS: ‘I?’ ROBERTS: ‘You are good at those things. You have so much _aplomb_, you know. _You_ could carry it off, you know, first-rate.’ WILLIS, as if finding a certain fascination in the idea: ‘Well, I don’t know—’ ROBERTS: ‘And I could chime in on the laugh. I think I could do that if somebody else was doing the rest.’ WILLIS, after a moment of silent reflection: ‘I _should_ like to do it. I should like to see how old Bemis would look when I played it on him. Roberts, I _will_ do it. Not a word! I should _like_ to do it. Now you go on and hurry up your toilet, old fellow; you needn’t mind me here. I’ll be rehearsing.’ MRS. ROBERTS, knocking at the door, outside: ‘Edward, are you _never_ coming?’ ROBERTS: ‘Yes, yes; I’ll be there in a minute, my dear.’ WILLIS: ‘Yes, he’ll be there. Run along back, and keep it going till we come. Roberts, I wouldn’t take a thousand dollars for this chance.’ ROBERTS: ‘I’m glad you like it.’ WILLIS: ‘Like it? Of course I do. Or no! Hold on! Wait! It won’t do! No; you must take the leading part, and I’ll support you, and I’ll come in strong if you break down. That’s the way we have got to work it. You must make the start.’ ROBERTS: ‘Couldn’t you make it better, Willis? It’s your idea.’ WILLIS: ‘No; they’d be sure to suspect me, and they can’t suspect you of anything—you’re so innocent. The illusion will be complete.’ ROBERTS, very doubtfully: ‘Do you think so?’ WILLIS: ‘Yes. Hurry up. Let me unbutton that collar for you.’ PART THIRD I MRS. ROBERTS, DR. LAWTON, MRS. CRASHAW, MR. BEMIS, YOUNG MR. AND MRS. BEMIS MRS. ROBERTS, surrounded by her guests, and confronting from her sofa Mr. Bemis, who still remains sunken in his armchair, has apparently closed an exhaustive recital of the events which have ended in his presence there. She looks round with a mixed air of self-denial and self-satisfaction to read the admiration of her listeners in their sympathetic countenances. DR. LAWTON, with an ironical sigh of profound impression: ‘Well, Mrs. Roberts, you are certainly the most lavishly hospitable of hostesses. Every one knows what delightful dinners you give; but these little dramatic episodes which you offer your guests, by way of appetizer, are certainly unique. Last year an elevator stuck in the shaft with half the company in it, and this year a highway robbery, its daring punishment and its reckless repetition—what the newspapers will call “A Triple Mystery” when it gets to them—and both victims among our commensals! Really, I don’t know what more we could ask of you, unless it were the foot-padded footpad himself as a commensal. If this sort of thing should become _de rigueur_ in society generally, I don’t know what’s to become of people who haven’t your invention.’