He ambled across the room into the anteroom, stuck his head past the doorway into the theatre, and shouted, “Mr. Panzer, will you come here a moment?” He came back smiling grimly to himself, the swarthy theatre-manager close on his heels. “Mr. Panzer, meet District Attorney Sampson,” said Queen. The two men shook hands. “Now, Mr. Panzer, you’ve got one more job and you can go home and go to sleep. I want this theatre shut down so tight a mouse couldn’t get into it!” Panzer grew pale. Sampson shrugged his shoulders, as if to indicate that he washed his hands of the entire affair. Ellery nodded sagely in approval. “But—but Inspector, just when we’re playing to capacity!” groaned the little manager. “Is it absolutely necessary?” “So necessary, my dear man,” answered the Inspector coolly, “that I’m going to have two men here patrolling the premises all the time.” Panzer wrung his hands, looking furtively at Sampson. But the District Attorney was standing with his back to them, examining a print on the wall. “This is terrible, Inspector!” wailed Panzer. “I’ll never hear the end of it from Gordon Davis, the producer.... But of course—if you say so, it will be done.” “Heck, man, don’t look so blue,” said Queen, more kindly. “You’ll be getting so much publicity out of this that when the show reopens you’ll have to enlarge the theatre. I don’t expect to have the theatre shut down more than a few days, anyway. I’ll give the necessary orders to my own men outside. After you’ve transacted your routine business here to-night, just tip off the men I’ve left and go home. I’ll let you know in a few days when you can reopen.” Panzer waggled his head sadly, shook hands all around and left. Sampson immediately whirled on Queen and said, “By the Lord Harry, Q, that’s going some! Why do you want the theatre closed? You’ve milked it dry, haven’t you?” “Well, Henry,” said Queen slowly, “the hat hasn’t been found. All those people filed out of the theatre and were searched—and each one had just one hat. Doesn’t that indicate that the hat we’re looking for is still here somewhere? And if it’s still here, I’m not giving anybody a chance to come in and take it away. If there’s any taking to be done, I’ll do it.” Sampson nodded. Ellery was still wearing a worried frown as the three men walked out of the office into the almost deserted orchestra. Here and there a busy figure was stooping over a seat, examining the floor. A few men could be seen darting in and out of the boxes up front. Sergeant Velie stood by the main door, talking in low tones to Piggott and Hagstrom. Detective Flint, superintending a squad of men, was working far to the front of the orchestra. A small group of cleaning-women operated vacuum cleaners tiredly here and there. In one corner, to the rear, a buxom police matron was talking with an elderly woman—the woman Panzer had called Mrs. Phillips.