“You are going to do nothing of the sort,” replied Travers, again grasping his arm and pulling him back.
“Don’t come with me, please,” pleaded Fair; “I’ll be only a minute.”
“Never fear,” answered Allyne at his other arm; “I wouldn’t go up there with anybody—but you are not going up, either. Out with him, Travers.”
“Yes, come, old man,” begged Travers earnestly. “Notify the police that thieves are in the house, call the fire brigade—anything, but don’t be a fool and expose yourself to you don’t know what danger. Come!”
They strained at him, and presently Fair gave in, saying: “Very well, it is getting a bit on my nerves, I confess. Go to the top of the stairs before I turn out the light. All ready? There.”
He turned out the light and felt his way to the stairs, down which Travers and Allyne preceded him, and the next moment they stepped out into the blessed coolness and relief of the street.
The instant that Fair turned out the light in the library a man stole quickly in from the adjoining study and groped his way to the chest in the total darkness. Just after the street door slammed two persons, who had been listening on the floor above the library, began whispering as they descended the stairs and approached that room.
Meanwhile Fair and his two friends called a cab and drove off eastward and soon were set down in the Strand near the law courts, proposing to make the remainder of their journey on foot.