“You quite understand, sir,” he said as he led the way up the somewhat narrow stairs, “that I have to be----” “Oh, quite,” interrupted Amber. “Where are you going to put me--second floor?” “The second floor is engaged, sir,” said the porter. “In fact, I was expecting the gentleman and his friend at the moment you rang.” “Late bird, eh?” said Amber. “He’s been in once to-night--about an hour ago--he had to go out again on business.” On the third floor Amber was shown the large front room to his entire satisfaction--for the fact that such a room was available told him that he had the entire floor to himself. The porter lit the fire which was laid in the grate. “Is there anything else you want, sir?” “Nothing, thank you.” Amber followed the man to the landing and stood there as he descended. The porter stopped half-way down, arrested by the visitor’s irresolute attitude. “You are sure there is nothing I can do for you, sir--cup of tea or anything?” “Nothing, thank you,” said Amber, slowly removing his coat. A little puzzled, the man descended. Amber wanted something very badly, but he did not tell the man. He wanted to know whether the stairs creaked, and was gratified to find that they did not. He waited a while till he heard the slippered feet shuffling on the paved hall below. There was no time to be lost. He kicked off his shoes and noiselessly descended to the second floor. There were three rooms which he judged communicated. One of these was locked. He entered the other two in turn. The first was a conventional sitting-room and opened through folding doors to a small bedroom. From the appearance of the shaving apparatus on the dressing-table and the articles of dress hanging in the wardrobe, he gathered that this was Whitey’s bedroom. There was a door leading to the front room, but this was locked. He crept out to the landing and listened. There was no sound save a far-away whistling which told of the porter’s presence in some remote part of the building--probably in the basement. To open the front door which led to the landing might mean detection; he resolved to try the door between the two rooms. There was a key in the lock, the end of it projected an eighth of an inch beyond the lock on the bedroom side. Amber took from his coat pocket a flat wallet and opened it. It was filled with little tools. He selected a powerful pair of pliers and gripped the end of the key. They were curious shaped pliers, for their grip ran at right angles to their handles. The effect was to afford an extraordinary leverage. He turned the key cautiously. Snap! The door was unlocked. Again he made a journey to the landing and listened. There was no sound.