It was just before early daybreak when the Clutching Hand and his confederate reached the Dodge House in the city and came up to the back door, over the fences.  As they stood there, the Clutching Hand produced a master key and started to open the door.  But before he did so, he took out his watch.

“Let me see,” he ruminated.  “Twenty minutes past four.  At exactly half past, I want you to do as I told you—­see?”

The other crook nodded.

“You may go,” ordered the Clutching Hand.

As the crook slunk away, Clutching Hand stealthily let himself into the house.  Noiselessly he prowled through the halls until he came to Elaine’s doorway.

He gave a hasty look up and down the hall.  There was no sound.  Quickly he took a syringe from his pocket and bent down by the door.  Inserting the end under it, he squirted some liquid through which vaporized rapidly in a wide, fine stream of spray.  Before he could give an alarm, Rusty was overcome by the noxious fumes, rolled over on his back and lay still.

Outside, the other crook was waiting, looking at his watch.  As the hand slowly turned the half hour, he snapped the watch shut.  With a quick glance up and down the deserted street, he deftly started up the rain pipe that passed near Elaine’s window.

This time there was no faithful Rusty to give warning and the second intruder, after a glance at Elaine, still sleeping, went quickly to the door, dragged the insensible dog out of the way, turned the key and admitted the Clutching Hand.  As he did so he closed the door.

Evidently the fumes had not reached Elaine, or if they had, the inrush of fresh air revived her, for she waked and quickly reached for the gun.  In an instant the other crook had leaped at her.  Holding his hand over her mouth to prevent her screaming he snatched the revolver away before she could fire it.

In the meantime the Clutching Hand had taken out some chloroform and, rolling a towel in the form of a cone, placed it over her face.  She struggled, gasping and gagging, but the struggles grew weaker and weaker and finally ceased altogether.

When Elaine was completely under the influence of the drug, they lifted her out of bed, the chloroform cone still over her face, and quietly carried her to the door which they opened stealthily.

Downstairs they carried her until they came to the library with its new safe and there they placed her on a couch.

. . . . . . . .

At an early hour an express wagon stopped before the Dodge house and Jennings, half dressed, answered the bell.

“We’ve come for that broken suit of armor to be repaired,” said a workman.

Jennings let the men in.  The armor was still on the stand and the repairers took armor, stand, and all, laying it on the couch where they wrapped it in the covers they had brought for the purpose.  They lifted it up and started to carry it out.