she clutched her handbag. Mr. Parker, bland and benign, rose to his feet.

"My own stake has disappeared," he declared; "and the pile of notes I
distinctly saw in front of the banker has gone. I fear, Mr. Rubenstein,
there is a thief among us."

Mr. Rubenstein, white as a sheet, was standing at the door. He locked it
and put the key in his pocket.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "play is over for to-night. We are,
without a doubt, the victims of an attempted robbery. The lights were
turned out from the controlling switch by the lift man, who has
disappeared. I will ask you to leave the room one by one; and, for all our
sakes, I beg that any unknown to us will submit themselves to be
searched."

There was a little angry murmur. Mr. Rubenstein looked pleadingly round.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he begged, "you will not object, I am sure. I am a
poor man. Two thousand pounds of my money has gone from that table--all
the money I kept in reserve to make a bank for you. If any one will return
it now nothing shall be said. But to lose it all--I tell you it would ruin
me!"

The perspiration stood out on his forehead. He looked anxiously round, as
though seeking for sympathy. Mr. Parker came over to his side.

"Say, Mr. Rubenstein," he declared, "there isn't any one here who wants
you to lose a five-pound note--that's a sure thing! But there is just one
difficulty about this searching business: How can you identify your notes?