The next evening as I stood looking at the window display Sanc came by, glanced inside sharply, and snapped his fingers, which was the “office” to me that he was going in. I went in about three steps behind him. All I saw was a fine-looking, elderly man in a policeman’s uniform walking up the center of the store, active, alert. When I passed him my heart was pounding so with suspense that I was afraid he would hear it. Sanc walked straight to the back of the big room and sat on a settee. I strolled about looking at, but not seeing, the wonderful display of baubles. The place was fairly filled with Christmas shoppers and sightseers. Beautifully gowned women and distinguished-looking men stood at the counters inspecting rare stones and costly ornaments. Visitors idled around and clerks stepped about briskly. Parties of shoppers were coming in, the place was filling up with people laughing and chatting. There was a little pucker between Sanc’s eyes as he held his seat, and I knew something was wrong. Looking closer I saw, facing him and but a few feet away, an attaché of the place conversing with a party of women. Sanc was stuck and couldn’t transform himself into a clerk under the man’s eyes. At last he moved away. Sanc took off his hat, put it on the settee, stood up, and stepped smartly toward the front, a clerk now, and I right behind him with my dummy parcel. Sanc’s unavoidable delay in transforming himself into a clerk was fatal to our plan. One glance along the show cases that contained the most valuable stones showed us that they were all out and under inspection by patrons who came in after we did. Time was precious, worth more than money. He dared not hesitate. Turning quickly, he crossed the room and stepped behind the long line of show cases, passed two busy clerks, and stopped at a case that held a number of trays of small stones. “Now, here’s something, sir,” he said to me as he reached in and brought out a tray holding one dozen rings, the best in sight that he could get at. My parcel was on the show case and he did not wait for me to act; he placed it on top of the tray and turned away toward the rear of the store. Shaking with suspense I managed to pick it up and place it properly under my arm, holding it closely to my side. On the sidewalk I wanted to run, expecting to hear a hue and cry from the store. In turning the first corner I looked back. Sanc wasn’t more than twenty feet behind me. I slowed up for him and we went straight to the room. “Another bunch of rotten luck, kid,” he said, peeling off his black suit. “This town has me hoodooed. I’m gone from it to-night, and you had better come along. Wrap up that suit and throw it away along with the shirt and tie. I’ll unharness these ‘rocks.’ We’re lucky if Mary gives us two thousand dollars on them.”