I looked around for some immediate means of escape.  As I have said, the office was located on the side street.  Directly in front of the desk was a large window, opened to let in the fresh morning air.  For me to think was to act.  In less than a minute I was seated on the desk with my legs dangling over the window sill.

“Aaron Woodward!” repeated Chris Holtzmann, in evident surprise.

“Yes, sir, and he says he must see you at once.”

“Did you hear that?” called out Holtzmann to me.

“Yes, I did,” I returned as coolly as I could.

“Did you expect him?”

“No.”

“Humph!”

Holtzmann made a movement as if to step into view, and I prepared to vanish from the scene.  But he changed his mind and walked from the office.

I was in a quandary.  To remain would place me in great peril, yet I was anxious to know the result of the meeting between the two men.  They were the prime movers in my father’s downfall, and nothing must be left undone to bring them to justice.

I resolved to remain, even if it were at the peril of my life.  I was not an over-brave boy, but the thought of my father languishing in prison because of these men’s misdeeds, nerved me to stay.

The closet door was still open, and that gave me a sudden idea.

As I jumped from the desk another idea struck me, and without any hesitation I scattered the papers on the floor and upset the ink-well.

Then I squeezed myself into the closet, crouching down into one corner, behind several canes and umbrellas.

I was not an instant too soon, for hardly had I settled myself than the door opened, and Chris Holtzmann reentered, followed by Mr. Aaron Woodward.

Both men were highly excited, and both uttered an exclamation when they saw the room was empty.

“He’s gone!” cried Holtzmann.

“Gone?” repeated the merchant.  “Get out, Holtzmann!  He was never here.”

“I say he was, less than two minutes ago.”

“Well, where is he now?”

“I don’t know.  Ha!  I see it!  He has jumped through the windows.  See how he has upset the ink and scattered the papers.  It’s as clear as day.”

“Can you see anything of him outside?”

Chris Holtzmann leaned out of the window.

“No; he’s up and around the corner long ago.”

“We must catch the rascal,” went on Mr. Woodward, in a high voice.  “He knows too much; he will ruin us both.”

“Ruin us both?” sneered the proprietor of the Palace of Pleasure.  “I don’t see how he can ruin me.”

“You’re in it just as deep as I am—­ just as deep.”

“Not a bit of it,” returned Holtzmann, with spirit.  “You are the only one who profited by the whole transaction, and you are the one to take the blame.”

“See here, Chris, you’re not going back on me in this way,” exclaimed the merchant, in a tone of reproach.