front of the desk. "They'll be all right in a minute or two. By
Jove, I wish my sister could have heard all you've been saying about
prisons and paroles and police. I ought to have had sense enough to
call her. She's asleep at the other end of the hall."

"I hate women," growled Mr. Smilk. "Ever since that pie-faced dame
got me chucked out of Sing Sing,--say, let me tell you something
else she done to me. She gave me an address somewhere up on the East
Side and told me to come and see her as soon as I got out. Well, I
hadn't been out a week when I went up to see her one night,--or,
more strictly speakin', one morning about two o'clock. What do you
think? It was an empty house, with a 'for rent' sign on it. I found
out the next day she'd moved a couple of weeks before and had gone
to some hotel for the winter because it was impossible to keep any
servants while this crime wave is goin' on. The janitor told me
she'd had three full sets of servants stole right out from under her
nose by female bandits over on Park Avenue. I don't suppose I'll
ever have another chance to get even with her. Everything all set to
bind and gag her, and maybe rap her over the bean a couple of times
and--say, can you beat it for rotten luck? She--she double-crossed
me, that's what she--"

A light, hesitating rap on the library door interrupted Mr. Smilk's
bitter reflection.