“I never saw a more typical criminal,” Michael said, severely looking at the captive; “every earmark of it. I could pick him out of a thousand. Now, Denby, we want to hear all about it.” “He’s crazy,” Taylor shouted indignantly. “Don’t you believe him. He’s the crook. I’m an agent of the United States Customs and I came here to get Denby.” “That’s a pretty poor bluff,” Denby scoffed. “This porch climber was one of the two who held up Monty and Miss Rutledge in the grounds to-night.” “I said they’d break in!” Alice cried, and believed her statement. “And how fortunate Ethel moved her room. This man looks like the sort who wouldn’t stop short of murder, Michael.” “The lowest human type!” Michael cried. “Look at his eyes and ears, and nose!” “I tell you I came to arrest him!” Taylor cried, striving to keep his already ruffled temper. “Arrest that charming man?” Mrs. Harrington cried with scorn. “Was there ever anything so utterly absurd!” “Absurd!” he sneered. “You won’t think so when you learn who I am. Ask that girl there; she knows; she’ll tell you whether I’m absurd.” Instantly they all centred their gaze on Ethel. For a second she looked at him blankly. “I never saw the man before,” she told them. “You didn’t, eh?” Taylor cried, after a pause of sheer astonishment, “I guess you’ll remember me when I serve a warrant for your sister’s arrest. It’s in my pocket now with other papers that prove I’m working for the United States Government.” He made a motion as though to get them but found Denby’s gun close under his nose. “No you don’t,” Denby warned him. “You’ve probably got a neat little automatic pistol there. I know your sort.” But when he seemed about to relieve the deputy-collector of his papers Taylor shouted a loud protest. “Very well,” Denby cried. “If you had rather Mr. Harrington did, it’s all the same to me. Mr. Harrington,” turning to his host, “will you please remove whatever documents you find in his inner pocket, so that we may find out if what he says is true.” “Surely,” Michael returned. “I like every man to have justice even if the electric chair yearns for him.” Carefully he removed a bundle of papers neatly tied together. And one of them, as Ethel Cartwright saw, was the warrant made out for her sister’s arrest. She wondered why Denby had invited inspection of them, but was not long to remain in doubt. “Now,” said Michael judicially, “we’ll do the thing properly.” But before he had unfolded a single one of the papers, they were snatched violently from his hand, and Denby, gun pointed at Taylor, was backing to the door. “Keep out of range, Harrington,” the retreating man warned. He cast a swift look of triumph toward Ethel. “It’s all right, Miss Cartwright,” he called cheerfully. “Don’t worry, it’s all right now.”