"I have been having a general clearing out and turning around of furniture since you were in--moved the books and rubbish out of that corner closet for one thing, and prepared it for those closed ledgers. Good place, don't you think?" "Has it strong locks?" asked Theodore, glancing around to the closet in question. "Splendid ones, and is built fire-proof." Theodore took in both the lock and the fact that the key was in it. "An excellent place for them," he answered. "Is there anything in it now?" "No, empty. What brought you here, Mallery? I hope you have no more work for me to do to-night. I was just thinking of my bed." "A very little, sir. I have those papers ready for your signature, and it occurred to me if you could add that to-night I could get them off by the early mail." "What an indefatigable plodder you are to get those papers ready so soon, and an unmerciful man besides to make me go over them to-night. What will ten or a dozen hours signify?" "I don't know," answered Theodore, gravely. "Great results have arisen from more trivial delays than ten or a dozen hours." Then he looked straight before him, apparently at the mirror, but really at the closet door. It was closed when he looked before; it was very slightly ajar now. Wind? No, there _was_ no wind within reach; it was a surly November night, and doors and windows were tightly closed. "Then there is really no escape for me?" yawned Mr. Stephens, in an inquiring tone. "None whatever," answered Theodore, playfully. "It won't take you half an hour, sir, and you know it is a very important matter, involving not only ourselves but others." "True," said Mr. Stephens, more gravely. "Well, pass them along."