was aware that you and the Weasel had anything to do with one another and were playing in together—­but that equally is unimportant.  When Hamvert engaged the Weasel for ten thousand dollars to get the map from you for him, the Weasel chose the line of least resistance.  He knew you, and approached you with an offer to split the money in return for the map.  It was not a question of your accepting his offer—­it was simply a matter of how you could do it and still protect yourself.  The Weasel was well qualified to point the way—­a fake robbery of your house would answer the purpose admirably—­you could not be held either legally or morally responsible for a document that was placed, unsolicited by you, in your possession, if it were stolen from you.”

Mittel’s face was ashen, colourless.  His hands were opening and shutting with nervous twitches on the top of the desk.

Jimmie Dale’s lips curled.

“But”—­Jimmie Dale was clipping off his words now viciously—­“neither you nor the Weasel were willing to trust the other implicitly—­perhaps you know each other too well.  You were unwilling to turn over the map until you had received your share of the money, and you were equally unwilling to turn it over until you were safe; that is, until you had engineered your fake robbery even to the point of notifying the police that it had been committed; the Weasel, on the other hand, had some scruples about parting with any of the money without getting the map in one hand before he let go of the banknotes with the other.  It was very simply arranged, however, and to your mutual satisfaction.  While you robbed your own house this evening, he was to get half the money in advance from Hamvert, giving Hamvert to understand that he had planned to commit the robbery himself to-night.  He was to come out here then, receive the map from you in exchange for your share of the money, return to Hamvert with the map, and receive in turn his own share.  I might say that Hamvert actually paid down the advance—­and it was perhaps unfortunate for you that you paid such scrupulous attention to details as to cut your own telephone wires!  I had not, of course, an exact knowledge of the hour or minute in which you proposed to stage your little play here.  The object of my first visit a little while ago was to forestall your turning the diagram over to the Weasel.  Circumstances favoured you for the moment.  I am back again, however, for the same purpose—­the map!”

Mittel, in a cowed way, was huddled back in his chair.  He smiled miserably at Jimmie Dale.

“Quick!” Jimmie Dale flung out the word in a sharp, peremptory bark.  “Do you need to be told that the cartridges are dry?”

Mittel’s hand, trembling, went into his pocket and produced an envelope.

“Open it!” commanded Jimmie Dale.  “And lay it on the desk, so that I can read it—­I am too wet to touch it.”

Mittel obeyed—­like a dog that has been whipped.