“I suppose you know the law provides a very unpleasant penalty for murder,” said Mrs. Champney, but her voice quavered disloyally.

“One!” began Cassius ominously.

“Do you really mean it?” she cried, and glanced frantically over her shoulder at the open closet door.

“Two,” replied Cassius.

“Count slowly,” implored Mr. Yollop.

“You—­you may tie my hands, Critt—­Crittenden,—­” chattered the lady.

“You mustn’t bite or scratch him,” warned Cassius.

Sixty seconds later, Mrs. Champney stood before the burglar, her wrists securely bound behind her back.

“Will you gag her, or must I?” demanded Cassius.

“I will give you my word of honor not to scream,” faltered the crumpling lady.

“It ain’t the screamin’ I object to,” said Smilk.  “It’s the talkin’.  You’ve done too much talkin’ already, ma’am.  If you hadn’t talked so much I wouldn’t be here tonight.”

“Have you a hanky, Cassius?” inquired Mr. Yollop.

“I refuse to have that disgusting wretch’s filthy handkerchief stuffed into my mouth,” cried Mrs. Champney, with spirit.  Mr. Yollop chuckled.  “Good gracious, Crittenden, what is there to laugh at?”

“I was thinking of your roll of bills, Cassius,” said Mr. Yollop.

“Not on your life,” said Cassius, who evidently had had the same thought.  “She’d swaller it.”

“I suppose we’d better repair to your room, Alice, where we can obtain the necessary articles.  Mr. Smilk will naturally want to ransack your room anyhow, so we ’ll be saving quite a bit of time.  And the police are likely to be here any minute now.”

“You forgot to take your rings off, ma’am,” reminded Mr. Smilk.  “That’s got to be attended to, first of all.  Take ’em off, Mr. Yollop, and put ’em here on the desk.”  A moment later he dropped the three costly rings into his coat pocket.  “Now,” said he, “lead the way.  I’ll be right behind you with the gun.  No monkey business, now,—­remember that.”

It was not long before Mrs. Champney, properly gagged, found herself lashed to a rocking-chair in the charming little bed chamber, occupying, so to speak, a select position from which to observe the hasty but skillful operations of her recalcitrant beneficiary.  She watched him empty her innovation trunk, the drawers in her bureau, and the closet in which her choicest gowns were hanging.  He did it very thoroughly.  The floor was strewn with lingerie, hats, shoes, slippers, gloves, stockings, furs, frocks,—­over which he trod with professional disdain; he broke open her smart little jewel case and took therefrom a glittering assortment of rings, bracelets, and earrings; a horseshoe pin, a gorgeous crescent, and a string of pearls; a platinum and diamond wrist watch, an acorn watch, a diamond collar, several bars of diamonds, rubies and emeralds, and odds and ends of feminine vanity all without so much as pausing to classify them beyond the mere word “junk”.  All of this dazzling fortune he stuffed carelessly into his pocket.