"God bless my soul, officer! What——"
"Hush!" interrupted an unfamiliar, horrified voice. "Come inside quickly and close that door."
Anthony was in motion, too. Johnson Boller, stumbling out of his Circassian apartment, met him just entering the living-room from his own chamber, and for an instant they stared at one another as they knotted bathrobe cords about them.
"You see?" Johnson Boller said, with acid triumph. "I was right, eh?"
"What?"
"The cops have tracked the little devil down for his last job, whatever that may have been, and they've found him here! Now you've got a nice scandal on your hands, haven't you? A tenth-rate kid crook found hiding in the flat of Mr. Anthony Fry, with the full knowledge and consent of——"
"Upon my word, Johnson, I think you've lost your senses to-night!" Anthony snapped. "Whatever is wrong, Wilkins?"
The silk-pajamaed one indicated their visitors with a hand that was none too steady.
"It's Mr. Dodbury, the night manager, sir, and this policeman that says——"
"I'm afraid you have a burglar in here, Mr. Fry," the manager put in agitatedly. "I can't understand how it occurred; nothing of the kind has ever happened to us before, and the mouth of that alley is constantly under the eye of the firemen on that side of the boiler-room. Moreover, there is a high gate from the street and I cannot believe that any one——"