Was it imagination, a trick of nerves, or--no, there it was again!--a footfall on the gravel walk at the front of the house.

The sound became louder, clearer--two footfalls instead of one.

It was Stangeist, and somebody was with him.
In an instant Jimmie Dale was across the room and kneeling again before the safe.

His fingers were flying now.

The envelope shot back into the pigeonhole from which he had taken it--the inner door of the safe closed silently and swiftly.
A dry chuckle came from Jimmie Dale's lips.