"I'll have to hurry if I don't want to lose my train," he explained. "But where's the place?" Caroline cried excitedly; "what place did Uncle Joe pick out? Won't you tell me? I won't tell--truly, I won't!" The man paused with one hand on the window button, and looked thoughtfully at her. "By George," he announced, "I've a good mind to tell you! I'm not supposed to tell a soul, you know, but you've been such a brick, and being his own niece and all, I think you've got a _right_ to know, I really do." Caroline nodded breathlessly. "Look here!" he cried, "I'll trust you if your uncle won't. I don't like the place he told me, much--it isn't safe enough. There's two thousand dollars' worth of stuff here, counting the--counting everything, and an old barn's no place for it. See here. You promise me to stay here for an hour--one hour exactly, by the clock--and I'll leave this bag at your house for you. Then you can hide it under your bed, or anywhere you want, till to-morrow, and then you can manage the rest to suit yourself. How's that?" "Oh, that would be grand!" she gasped. "You can just tell your uncle that I saw you were game and I trusted you, if he wouldn't," he concluded, opening the window, "and I'll take this to your house in half an hour. Will you promise not to leave for an hour? We mustn't be seen together, you know, or people might suspect and then the game'd be up. And will you lock this window after me and go out the same way you came?" "Yes, yes! I promise, I promise solemnly!" she assured him, flushed with importance, "and tell 'em not to open it, will you? They might. Say it's private for me, will you?" "All right," he said soberly. "I'm kind o' sorry they went to Yale," he added abruptly. "I'd rather--sh! what's that?" He stood rigidly listening; his eyes rolled back, his hand raised in warning. "I don't hear--" she began, but his angry gesture and the furious whisper that went with it cowed her into a silence as strained as his own. For a moment it seemed to Caroline that she heard a faint snap as of a board released from pressure, but dead quiet followed; she held her breath with excitement as the man lifted the suit-case over the ledge, and peering over the balcony stepped out. Suddenly he paused, one leg over the sill; his eyes rolled back towards the room, his lips tightened. So terrible, and so despairing his face had turned that Caroline rushed to the window. Even as she started she heard quick soft steps in the hall, and pointed to the freedom outside. "Jump, oh, jump, Mr. Barker!" she whispered in a glow of terror, "hurry! It _is_ somebody!" He pointed silently to the ground below, and with her heart pounding heavily she peered over the sill. Directly below them crouched a Great Dane, brindled, enormous, one eye fixed sternly on the window.