"The Masquer is a piker," observed Fell, in his toneless voice.
"Eh? A piker—when he can make a hundred-thousand-dollar haul?"
"Don't dream that those figures represent value, Doctor. They don't! All the loot the Masquer has taken since he began work is worth little to him. Jewels are hard to sell. This game of banditry is romantic, but it's out of date these days. Of course, the crook has obtained a bit of money, but not enough to be worth the risk."
"Yet he has got quite a bit," returned Ansley, thoughtfully. "All the men have money, naturally; we don't want to find ourselves bare at some gay carnival moment! I'll warrant you've a hundred or so in your pocket right now!"
"Not I," rejoined Fell, calmly. "One ten-dollar bill. Also I left my watch at home. And I'm not dressed; I don't care to lose my pearl studs."
"Eh?" Ansley frowned. "What do you mean?"
Jachin Fell took a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to the physician.
"I met Maillard at the bank this morning. He called me into his office and handed me this—he had just received it in the mail."
Doctor Ansley opened the folded paper; an exclamation broke from him as he read the note, which was addressed to their host of the evening.
Joseph Maillard, President,
Exeter National Bank, City.
I thank you for the masque you are giving to-night. I shall be present. Please see that Mrs. M. wears her diamonds—I need them.
The Midnight Masquer.