piece of money, had drawn him along the street as far as the drug store.
Here she showed him another coin, promising to add it to the one he had
already pocketed if he would run in to the telephone clerk with a
message for the police. He wanted the money, and when he grabbed at it
she said that all he had to do was to tell the clerk that a strange
crime had been committed in the old house on ---- Street. This scared
him, and he was sliding off, when she caught him again and shook him
until his wits came back, after which he ran into the store and
delivered the message.

There was candor in the boy's tone, and Mr. Gryce was disposed to
believe him; but when he was asked to describe the lady, he showed that
his powers of observation were no better than those of most of his
class. All he could say was that she was a stunner, and wore shiny
clothes and jewels, and Mr. Gryce, recognizing the lad's limitations at
the very moment he found himself in view of the house he was making for,
ceased to question him, and directed all his attention to the building
he was approaching.

Nothing in the exterior bespoke crime or even disturbance. A shut door,
a clean stoop, heavily curtained windows (some of which were further
shielded by closely drawn shades) were eloquent of inner quiet and
domestic respectability, while its calm front of brick, with brownstone
trimmings, offered a pleasing contrast to the adjoining buildings
jutting out on either side, alive with signs and humming with business.

"Some mistake," muttered Gryce to himself, as the perfect calm reigning
over the whole establishment struck him anew. But before he had decided
that he had been made the victim of a hoax, a movement took place in the
area under the stoop, and an officer stepped out, with a countenance