the window up, propped with a stick, and from my window jerked out the prop, but the cool air would have shown the old man that the window was raised, and this would have ruined everything.  Finally I decided that the falling of my own window—­both are old-fashioned and are held up by a notched button—­would arouse him and that he would think that the noise came from the vault-room.  I would prop it with the edge of the button so that a slight pull on a string would throw it.  But another question then arose.  The weather was cold, and why should we have our window up so high?  How should I explain to my wife?  I would build a roaring fire in the furnace.  That would heat the room too hot and give me an excuse to raise the window.  But she would find it down.  I could tell her that the room cooled off and that I put it down.  But I was quibbling with myself.  Everything was settled.  The hall-door of the vault-room is but a step from my own door, and was kept fastened with a spring lock and a bolt and was supposed never to be opened.  I drew back the bolt and the catch, and fixed the catch so that I could easily spring it when I went out.  When everything had thus been arranged, I went to Witherspoon’s to come home with the folks.  The sky was clouded and the night was very dark.  When we reached home the old man complained of having eaten too much—­something he never had cause to complain of when he ate at home—­and said that he believed he would lie down.

“’The window of the vault-room was never raised by the old man, and was kept fastened down with an old-time cast-iron catch.  I had broken this off; but, afraid that he might examine the window and the door, I went with him to his room.  And when he went into the vault-room to light the gas, I stood in the door and talked to him about his intended investment, and I talked so positively of the great profit he would surely make that he looked at neither the door nor the window.  Everything had worked well.  I bade him and the old lady good night and went to my own room.  My wife complained of the heat, and I raised the window, remarking that I would get up after a while and put it down.  How dreadfully slow the time was after I went to bed!  And when I thought that every one must be asleep, my wife startled me by asking if I had noticed how unusually feeble her mother looked.  I imagined that some one was dragging the ladder from under the window, and once I fancied that I heard the old man call me.  The thought, the possibility of committing murder never occurred to me.  The positive knowledge that I should never be discovered and that I should get every dollar of his money would not have tempted me to kill him.  I lay for a long time—­until I knew that every one must be asleep.  Then I carefully got out of bed.  I struck a chair, and I waited to see if my wife had been awakened by the noise.  No; she was sound asleep.  I tied a string to the window button, got my tools, which I had hidden in a closet and which were mainly intended