Course, it don't take any super-brain to guess that there must be another party inside the lodge. What would Ellery be passin' stuff through the window for if there wasn't? And anybody inside couldn't very well get out, for the only door is a heavy, iron-studded affair padlocked on the outside and the little window is covered with an ornamental iron grill. Besides, as I edges up closer, I hears talking going on. It sounds like the inside party is grumblin' over something or other. His voice sounds hoarse and indignant, but I can't get what it's all about. When the youth in the checked cap gave him the come-back though it was clear enough. "Aw, shut up, you big stiff!" says he. "You're lucky to get cold chicken and bread and jam. Where do you think I'm goin' to get hot coffee for you, anyway? Ain't I runnin' a chance as it is, swipin' this out of the ice-box after the servants leave? It's more'n you deserve, you crook." More grumbles from inside. "Yah, I got the cigars," says the other, "but you don't get 'em until you pass out them dishes. Think I can stick around here all night? And remember, one peep to your pals, or to anyone else, and my trusty guards will start shootin' through the window. Hey? How long? Until we get 'em all into the net. So you might as well quit your belly-achin' and confess." It was a more or less entertainin' dialogue but I thought I'd enjoy it more if I could hear both sides. So I was workin' my way through the bushes with my ear stretched until I was within almost a yard of the window when I steps on a dry branch that cracks like a cap pistol. In a flash the youth has dropped the basket and whirled on me with a long carvin' knife. Which was my cue for quick action. "'Sall right, Ellery," says I. "Friend." "What friend?" he demands, starin' at me suspicious. "You know," says I, whisperin' mysterious. "Oh!" says he. "From Headquarters?" "You've said it," says I. "But--but how can I tell," he goes on, "that you ain't----" "Look!" says I, throwin' back my coat and runnin' my thumb under the armhole of my vest. Sure it worked. Why, if you flash a nickel-plated suspender buckle quick enough you can pass it for a badge even by daylight. "I didn't think you'd get my letter so soon," says Ellery. "I'm glad you came, though. See, I've got one of the gang already. He's the ringleader, too." "Fine work!" says I. "But what's the plot of the piece? You didn't make that so clear. Is it a case of----" "Hist!" says Ellery. "I ain't told him how much I know. Let's get off where he can't hear. Back in the bushes there." And when we've circled the lodge and put some shrubbery between us and the road Ellery consents to open up. "They're tryin' to do away with Sister Maggie," says he. "You know who she is--Mrs. Andres Zosco?" "But I thought she was Myrtle Mapes," says I.