The question of the fourth man troubled him more than he confessed. It was shaking his nerves. The police he understood, and was prepared for, could even combat, but here was the fourth man as cunning as they, who knew their plans, who followed them, who kept them under observation. Why? What object had he? He did not doubt that the fourth man was he who had watched them in Hatton Garden. If it was a hobby it was a most extraordinary hobby, and the man must be mad. If he had an object in view, why did he not come out into the daylight and admit it? “I wonder how I can get hold of him?” he said half aloud. “Advertise for him,” said Callidino. A sharp retort rose to the other’s lips, but he checked it. After all, there was something in that. One could do many things through the columns of the daily press. CHAPTER XII. THE PLACE WHERE THE LOOT WAS STORED “Will the Hatton Garden intruder communicate with the man who lay on the floor, and arrange a meeting. The man on the floor has a proposition to make, and promises no harm to intruder.” Gilbert Standerton read the advertisement when he was taking his breakfast, and a little smile gathered at the corners of his lips. Edith saw the smile. “What is amusing you, Gilbert?” she asked. “A thought,” he said. “I think these advertisements are so funny.” She had seen the direction of his eyes, carefully noted the page of the paper, and waited for an opportunity to examine for herself the cause of his amusement. “By the way,” he said carelessly, “I am putting some money to your credit at the bank to-day.” “Mine?” she asked. He nodded. “Yes, I have been rather fortunate on the Stock Exchange lately--I made twelve thousand pounds out of American rails.” She looked at him steadily. “Do you mean that?” she asked. “What else could I mean?” he demanded. “You see, American rails have been rather jumpy of late, and so have I.” He smiled again. “I jumped in when they were low and jumped out when they were high. Here is the broker’s statement.” He drew it from his pocket and passed it across the table to her. “I feel,” he said, with a pretence of humour, “that you should know I do not secure my entire income from my nefarious profession.” She made no response to this. She knew who the fourth man had been. Why had he gone there? What had been his object? If he had been a detective, or if he had been in the employ of the Government, he would have confessed it. Her heart had sunk when she had read the interesting theory which had been put forward by the journal. He was the second burglar. She thought all this with the paper he had passed to her on the table before her. The broker’s statement was clear enough. Here were the amounts, all columns ruled and carried forward. “You will observe that I have not put it all to your credit,” he bantered, “some of it has gone to mine.” “Gilbert,” she asked, “why do you keep things from me?” “What do I keep from you?” he asked.