A very puzzled and uneasy group dispersed before the tall marble office building, while in his own private office Gard paced the floor, from time to time punching the open palm of his left hand with the clenched fist of his right, in fury at himself.

“Am I mad—­am I mad?” he repeated mechanically.  “Has the devil gotten into me?” His confidential clerk knocked, and seeing the Great Man’s face, paused in trepidation.  “What is it?  What is it?” snapped Gard.

“There’s Brenchcrly, sir, in the outer office.  He wouldn’t give his message—­said you’d want to see him in private; so I ventured—­”

“Brencherly!” Gard’s heart missed a beat.  He stopped short.  He felt the mysterious dread from which he had suffered to be shaping itself from the darkness of uncertainty.  “Show him in,” he ordered, and, turning to the window, gazed blindly out, centering his self-control.  “Well?” he said without turning, as he heard the door open and close again.

“Mr. Gard,” came the quiet voice of the detective, “I’ve a piece of information, that, from what you told me the other day, I thought might interest you.  I have found out that Mr. Mahr is making every effort to find out the combination of Mrs. Marteen’s private safe.”

“What!”

“Yes.  I learned it from one of the men in the Cole agency.  Mr. Mahr didn’t come to us.  I’m not betraying any trust, you see.  It was Balling, one of the cleverest men they’ve got, but he drinks.  I was out with him last night, and he let it out; he said it was the rummiest job they’d had in a long day, and that his chief wouldn’t have taken it, but he had a lot of commissions from Mahr, and I guess, besides, he gave some reason for wanting it that sort of squared him.  Anyhow, that’s how it stands.”

“Have they got it?” Gard demanded.

“No, they hadn’t, but he said they expected to land it O.K.  They know the make, and they’ve got access to the company’s books, and the company’s people, and if she hasn’t changed the combination lately, they’ll land that all right.  I tried to find out if they’d put anyone into the apartment, but Balling sobered up a bit by that time and shut down on the talk.  But it’s dollars to doughnuts he’s after something, and they’ve put a flattie around somewhere.  Of course I don’t know how this frames up with what you told me about young Mahr, but I thought you might dope it out, perhaps.”

Gard sat down before his writing table, and wrote out a substantial cheque.

“There, Brencherly, that’s for you.  Thank you.  Now I put you on this officially.  Find out for me, if you can, if they have put anyone in the house.  Find out what they’re after.  Anything at all that concerns this matter is of interest to me.  Put a man to shadow Balling; have a watch put on anyone you think is acting for Mahr.  I will take it upon myself to have the combination changed.  I’ll send a message to Mrs. Marteen.”