"You don't understand, Alice," said Mr. Yollop kindly. "The poor fellow merely wants to have the law enforced. He says it's a crime the way the law is being violated these days. Or words to that effect, eh, Cassius?" "Yes, sir. There are more honest, law-abidin' men up in Sing Sing right at this minute than there are in the whole city of New York. Or words to that effect, as you say, Mr. Yollop. The surest and quickest way to make an honest man of a crook is to send him to the pen. I don't know as I've ever heard of a robbery, or a holdup, or anything like that up there." "The way he rambles, Crittenden, is proof--" "It would be just like her to go on the stand and swear I'm batty," snarled Cassius. "I got to do something about it, Mr. Yollop. She's goin' to interfere with the law again, sure as God made little apples. I can see it comin'. I'm goin' to count three, ma'am. If you don't let Mr. Yollop start to tyin' you up with that muffler of his hangin' over there in the closet by the time I've said three, I'm goin' to shoot him. I hate to do it, 'cause he's a fine feller and don't deserve to be shot on account of any darn' fool woman." "I suppose you know the law provides a very unpleasant penalty for murder," said Mrs. Champney, but her voice quavered disloyally. "One!" began Cassius ominously. "Do you really mean it?" she cried, and glanced frantically over her shoulder at the open closet door. "Two," replied Cassius. "Count slowly," implored Mr. Yollop. "You--you may tie my hands, Critt--Crittenden,--" chattered the lady. "You mustn't bite or scratch him," warned Cassius. Sixty seconds later, Mrs. Champney stood before the burglar, her wrists securely bound behind her back. "Will you gag her, or must I?" demanded Cassius. "I will give you my word of honor not to scream," faltered the crumpling lady. "It ain't the screamin' I object to," said Smilk. "It's the talkin'. You've done too much talkin' already, ma'am. If you hadn't talked so much I wouldn't be here tonight." "Have you a hanky, Cassius?" inquired Mr. Yollop. "I refuse to have that disgusting wretch's filthy handkerchief stuffed into my mouth," cried Mrs. Champney, with spirit. Mr. Yollop chuckled. "Good gracious, Crittenden, what is there to laugh at?" "I was thinking of your roll of bills, Cassius," said Mr. Yollop. "Not on your life," said Cassius, who evidently had had the same thought. "She'd swaller it." "I suppose we'd better repair to your room, Alice, where we can obtain the necessary articles. Mr. Smilk will naturally want to ransack your room anyhow, so we 'll be saving quite a bit of time. And the police are likely to be here any minute now."