Orme started. He had given her the marked five-dollar bill. "I didn't mean to give you that one," he said, taking it from her fingers. She stared at him. "Is it phony?" "No--but I want it. Here's another." As he took a fresh bill from his pocket-book he discovered to his surprise that the marked bill, together with the few dollars in change he had received after his purchase in the shop below, was all that he now had left in his pocket. He remembered that he had intended to draw on his funds that morning. His departure from New York had been hurried, and he had come away with little ready cash. Madame Alia slipped the bill into her bosom and waited. She knew well enough that her visitor had some demand to make. "Now," said Orme, "I am going to use your fire-escape for a little while." The woman nodded. "I want you to keep all visitors out," he continued. "Don't answer the bell. I may want to come back this way quick." "This is straight business, isn't it? I don't want to get into no trouble." "Absolutely straight," said Orme. "All you have to do is to leave your window open and keep quiet." "You can count on me," she said. "Perhaps you know all about the place down there, but if you don't, I'll tell you that the fire-escape leads into his reception-room." Orme smiled. "You seem to be acquainted with your neighbor, after all." "I've come up the stairs when his door was open." "Does he seem to be pretty busy with his teaching?" "Evenings, he is. And some come in the afternoon. I always know, because they thud on the floor so when they wrestle." "And mornings?" "He generally seems to be away mornings." "I fancy he's what you'd call a noisy neighbor," said Orme. "Oh, I don't mind. There's more or less noise up here sometimes." She smiled frankly. "Spirits can make a lot of noise. I've known them to throw tables over and drag chairs all around the room." "Well"--Orme was not interested in spirits--"be sure you don't let anybody in here until I come back." Again she nodded. Then she went into the reception-hall and he heard her push the bolt of the door. She did not return, but her steps seemed to move into one of the other rooms. Orme went to the window, pushed it up, and climbed out on the fire-escape. He was glad to see that the wall across the court was windowless. He might be observed from the buildings that backed up from the next street, but they apparently belonged to a large storage loft or factory. There were no idle folk at the windows. The window of the room below was open. This was in one sense an advantage--and Orme blessed the Japanese athletes for their insistence on fresh air; but on the other hand, it made quietness essential. Slowly he let himself through the opening in the platform and moved a few steps down the ladder. Then he crouched and peered through the dingy lace curtains that were swaying in the breeze.