“Open her up,” he said curtly.

“It’s nothing but some old books,” said Metzger.

“If they’re old enough they may be valuable,” said Roger. 
“I’m interested in old books.  Look sharp!”

Metzger drew a key from his pocket and unlocked the bag. 
Aubrey held the pistol at his head as he threw back the lid.

The suitcase was full of second-hand books closely packed together. 
Roger, with great presence of mind, was keeping his eyes on Weintraub.

“Tell me what’s in it,” he said.

“Why, it’s only a lot of books, after all,” cried Titania.

“You see,” said Weintraub surlily, “there’s no mystery about it.  I’m sorry I was so——­”

“Oh, look!” said Titania; “There’s the Cromwell book!”

For an instant Roger forgot himself.  He looked instinctively at the suitcase, and in that moment the druggist broke away, ran down the aisle, and flew out of the door.  Roger dashed after him, but was too late.  Aubrey was holding Metzger by the collar with the pistol at his head.

“Good God,” he said, “why didn’t you shoot?”

“I don’t know” said Roger in confusion.  “I was afraid of hitting him.  Never mind, we can fix him later.”

“The police will be here in a minute,” said Helen, calling from the telephone.  “I’m going to let Bock in.  He’s in the back yard.”

“I think they’re both crazy,” said Titania.  “Let’s put the Cromwell back on the shelf and let this creature go.”  She put out her hand for the book.

“Stop!” cried Aubrey, and seized her arm.  “Don’t touch that book!”

Titania shrank back, frightened by his voice.  Had everyone gone insane?

“Here, Mr. Metzger,” said Aubrey, “you put that book back on the shelf where it belongs.  Don’t try to get away.  I’ve got this revolver pointed at you.”

He and Roger were both startled by the chef’s face.  Above the unkempt beard his eyes shone with a half-crazed lustre, and his hands shook.

“Very well,” he said.  “Show me where it goes.”

“I’ll show you,” said Titania.

Aubrey put out his arm in front of the girl.  “Stay where you are,” he said angrily.

“Down in the History alcove,” said Roger.  “The front alcove on the other side of the shop.  We’ve both got you covered.”

Instead of taking the volume from the suitcase, Metzger picked up the whole bag, holding it flat.  He carried it to the alcove they indicated.  He placed the case carefully on the floor, and picked the Cromwell volume out of it.

“Where would you want it to go?” he said in an odd voice.  “This is a valuable book.”

“On the fifth shelf,” said Roger.  “Over there——­”

“For God’s sake stand back,” said Aubrey.  “Don’t go near him.  There’s something damnable about this.”

“You poor fools!” cried Metzger harshly.  “To hell with you and your old books.”  He drew his hand back as though to throw the volume at them.