Palmer, however, apparently did not find what he wanted, for he muttered to himself, and at last replaced the blotting-book and turned his attention to the drawers. Two of these were unlocked, and Palmer searched them swiftly, but it was when he asked the doctor to lend him his keys, and at the same time produced a penknife and a piece of wire from his pocket, that the latter felt constrained to speak. “I say――you can’t do that, you know!” And he half rose from his chair. Palmer paused. “Perhaps it won’t be necessary,” he answered; and crossing the room he disappeared into the bedroom. The doctor followed him, and saw him light a candle, and then softly lock the bedroom door giving on the landing. “You promised not to interfere,” he whispered back over his shoulder. “I know I did, but――――” “If you go back to the other room you won’t see me. Open the door a little, so that you will be able to hear if anybody comes upstairs.” The doctor returned to the sitting-room, and in quite a short time Palmer rejoined him there. “I’ve got what I wanted. I think we may go now.” The doctor looked at him questioningly. “I hope you didn’t pick any locks.” “No; I didn’t want to try the locks if I could avoid it. I haven’t got the proper things to pick them with, and I don’t want to leave any marks.” “And what have you discovered?” Palmer slipped past him and closed the door, while the doctor, at the same time, became aware of footsteps approaching along the pavement of the street. The footsteps stopped and they heard the rattle of a latch-key. “We’re in for it now,” the doctor murmured, conscious that his own share in the performance was about to begin, and not feeling happy at the thought. They heard Mr. Bradley running up the stairs. Then the door was flung wide, and he stood on the threshold, gazing from one to the other of his visitors, while the flush on his face deepened. It was obvious that he was more astonished than pleased by this unexpected civility, and the situation was an awkward one, for he advanced no further, nor did he make any attempt to pretend that he was glad to see them. He simply stood there in silence, as if awaiting an explanation. The doctor had not been prepared for this attitude of immediate hostility, and the words he uttered, as he found himself apologizing, sounded remarkably lame. Palmer, however, had a better excuse. “Grif has lost the music of that thing he was to sing in church on Sunday. I don’t think he’ll be well enough to sing, but I thought, as we were passing your house, I would ask you if you had another copy. He was hunting everywhere for it to-day.” “Yes, he can have my own copy. I expect it is down in the hall. I’ll just go and see.” He left them and they heard him running downstairs. “He’s gone to ask the landlady how long we’ve been here,” said Palmer. “It doesn’t matter. That was rather a lucky whopper of yours.”