When Harvey went to dinner in the evening he left a force of ten detectives guarding the offices. Jim, who had spent the afternoon with Harvey, superintended the placing of the men. Mallory, the lieutenant in charge, was ensconced in the Superintendent's office, and six of his assistants were with him, privileged to doze until called. One man stood in the hall, in a position to watch the stairway and the windows at each end; one patrolled the waiting room; and the ninth man strolled about in front of the building, loitering in the shadows and watching the street with trained eye. Before leaving the station Jim had a short talk with Mallory. “Watch it awful close,” he said. “There's no telling what these people will do.” “Very well, Mr. Weeks. They won't get ahead of us. But I should feel a bit safer if you'd let me put a man by the vault.” Jim shook his head. “There's such a thing as doing it too well, Mallory. And by all means I hope that you won't do that.” He looked closely at the detective, who glanced away with a cautious nod. That evening after dinner, Jim telephoned for Mattison, the Superintendent, and a long talk ensued in Jim's room at the hotel. Neither he nor Harvey wasted time in recounting the experiences of the day; they had too many plans for the night. As Jim had said, it was necessary to lose the books, and to lose them thoroughly. It was equally important that the action should not be confided to any ordinary employee. The fewer men that knew of it, the safer Jim would be, and so he finally decided to confine the information within its original limits. “You two are lively on your feet,” he said. “And it is a good deal better for you to do it.” “How about the detectives?” asked Mattison. “You'll have to keep out of their way. Mallory won't trouble you so long as you keep still; but remember, every man, detective or not, that catches you, makes one more chance for evidence against us.” “But isn't the building surrounded?” “No. There's only one man outside, and he is in front. You can go through the alley and climb up to the window--it's only the second floor. Mallory has orders to keep out of the vault room. He's over in your office, Mattison.” “I suppose,” suggested Harvey, “that unless we are actually caught with the books, we can throw a bluff about a tour of inspection or something of that sort.” “And if we are caught,” said Mattison, “I suppose we can run like the devil.” “You'll have to trust the details more or less to circumstances,” was Jim's reply. “How about the books?” asked Harvey. “What shall we do with them?” “Mattison had better take care of them. We can't bring them to the hotel, and anyhow, it is just as well if you and I, West, don't know anything about them. Then, when we want them again, it is a good deal easier for Mattison to find them than for any one else. Sort of accident, you know.”