Orme chuckled to himself. In a moment Alcatrante would realize how the purse had been replaced in his pocket, and he would be furious. Meantime Orme entered another elevator, to go back to the eighth floor, and, as he had expected, the minister followed him. When they were outside the office of the Wallingham Company, Orme paused, his hand on the door. "Senhor Alcatrante," he said, "this business must end. I shall simply have to call the police." "At your own risk," said Alcatrante. Then an ugly light flashed in his eyes and his upper lip lifted above his yellow teeth. "You got the better of me there in the elevator," he snarled. "You won't get the better again." Orme opened the office-door. He glanced about the reception-room, to see whether the girl had hidden herself. She was not in view; indeed, there was even no one at the inquiry-window. Orme reasoned that at this hour some of the clerks might be leaving--which would mean, perhaps, that they were first putting away their books. At least they would not be expecting business callers. The door of the great sample refrigerator was ajar only two or three feet. When Orme was there a few minutes before it had been wide open. He wondered whether the girl had chosen it as her hiding-place. If she had, his plan of action would be simplified, for he would slip the papers in to her, then get Alcatrante from the room. In a casual way he folded his arms. He could now put his hand into his inside coat-pocket and the motion would hardly be noticed. For a moment he stood as though waiting for someone to appear at the inquiry-window. Though Alcatrante was watching him closely, Orme continued to act as if he were the only person in the room. And now the dial of the big thermometer in the outer wall of the refrigerator appeared to catch his eye, and he strolled over to it. This placed him almost in the open doorway. Apparently his eyes were on the dial, but in reality he was glancing sidewise into the chamber of the refrigerator. He glimpsed a moving figure in there--heard a faint rustling. Thrusting his hand into the inside of his coat, he was about to take out the precious papers to pass them in to her. Then he received a violent push from behind. He plunged forward, tripped with one foot on the sill of the refrigerator doorway, and went in headlong, sprawling on the tiled floor. His clutching hand caught the fold of a woman's skirt. Then, though he remained conscious, everything suddenly turned black. Bewildered as he was, several seconds passed before he realized that the massive door had been closed--that he and the girl were prisoners. CHAPTER XIV PRISONERS IN THE DARK Orme's hand still held her skirt. "Girl!" he whispered. "Yes. Are you hurt?"