Orme had kept out of the discussion, but now he spoke quietly. "I think, Senhor Alcatrante"--he uttered the name distinctly, knowing that the South American probably did not wish himself identified--"I think that, if the boy will take the car almost to the bottom, the starter will help you." There was a chorus of seconds to this suggestion. The boy pulled the lever and let the car descend slowly, while Alcatrante continued to exclaim. How would the South American try to throw suspicion where he wished it? Orme puzzled over this question, for certainly the police would not arrest all the passengers. And then he suddenly remembered how Alcatrante had crowded against him when they entered the car. A cold wave of horror swept over him. Was it possible that----? He put his hand into the left side pocket of his coat. Something was there that did not belong there--a smooth, bulging purse. Alcatrante had put it there. Orme fingered the purse. He would have to get rid of it, but he dared not to drop it to the floor, and if he thrust it through the grating and let it fall into the elevator well, someone would be almost certain to detect the action. There was only a moment left before the car would stop. He looked down at Alcatrante, who was close in front of him. Then his face relaxed and in spite of the gravity of his situation he smiled; for he had found a solution. Promptly he acted upon it. The car halted just below the ceiling of the first floor. "What's the matter with you?" called a voice--the voice of the starter. "Man robbed," said the elevator-boy. "Bring the car down." "No!" shouted Alcatrante. "The thief is in the car. He must not escape." "I won't let him out. Bring the car down." The boy let the car descend to the floor level. The starter placed himself against the gate. "Now then, who was robbed?" he demanded. Alcatrante crowded forward. "It was I. My purse is gone. I had it just before I got in." "Oh, it was you, was it?" The starter remembered the trouble Alcatrante had made a few minutes before. "Sure you didn't drop it?" "I am certain that I did not." The passengers were shuffling their feet about, in a vain effort to touch the lost property. A young girl was giggling hysterically. "Perhaps you put it in the wrong pocket, and didn't look careful enough." "I looked, I looked," exclaimed Alcatrante. "Do you think I would not know. See! I put it in this pocket, which now is empty." He thrust his hand into the pocket which he had indicated. Suddenly his expression changed to astonishment. "Find it?" grinned the starter. With the blankest of looks Alcatrante pulled the purse from his pocket. "It was not there two minutes ago," he muttered. "You've been dreamin'," remarked the starter, opening the gate with a bang. "All out!"