The Mystery Megapack

policy of the master of the house to keep a supply in the safe at all times.
    Nor was that all. There was a tray of ancient coins in the safe, so the fence had said, and an unscrupulous collector in another city would pay a big price for a particular coin in the tray. Jim Morlan expected to make a good thing out of this night’s work.
    And it was necessary, he told himself. He was almost out of funds, thanks to an idea that he could play poker. He knew that the men who had strapped him were exulting, not only because they had taken the money, but also because they had taken it from him.
    For Jim Morlan was cordially hated by the others of the underworld. He never played fair. He always worked alone. He did not give loyalty to his kind, and expected none. He belonged to no class, but stood alone. He had gone out of his way some months before to swindle a pair of crooks.
    And there was a keen determination throughout the underworld to “get” him. There was no idea of turning him over to the police. The idea was to make him a laughingstock, to kill him with ridicule.
    Morlan did not think of these things as he came finally to the side of the big house and crouched in the darkness near the wall. He watched and listened for a time. In the distance, some clock struck the hour of one. The district was quiet. There was scarcely a light to be seen, save here and there a soft glow from a entry hall or servants’ quarters.
    Morlan slipped along the wall until he came to a basement window. He did not break the catch with a jimmy. He guessed that the window was connected with a burglar-alarm system. Putting a rubber suction cap in the middle of the glass, he held it there with his left hand and, with his right, cut out the window close to the sash, using a glass cutter of the most approved pattern.
    A quick pull, a snap, and the pane of glass came away with scarcely any noise. Jim Morlan crawled through and found himself in a laundry room.
    Now he flashed his electric torch and found a piece of carpet, which he stretched before the open window. None knew better than Morlan that a sudden gust of wind might come through that window, slam a door somewhere in the house, and awaken the servants.
    The window covered, Morlan flashed his electric torch again and made his way into a hall. Finding a flight of steps, he crept upwards and presently found himself on the ground floor of the house. He stopped for a moment to watch and listen, the torch extinguished. Then he padded through the hall toward the library.
    Once inside the library, with the hall door closed behind him, Morlan felt his way around the walls until he had drawn all the window shades tightly. Only then did he flash the torch again. He did not want a sudden flash of light to go outside, possibly to be seen by some passing watchman and arouse curiosity.
    He knew where the safe was located and how to slide back the panel in the wall, and he lost no time in doing so. And then he knelt before the safe and played the light of the torch on the combination knob.
    Jim Morlan always was well prepared when he turned a trick. He knew a great deal about this particular safe. It was an imposing thing, but as a matter of truth, it presented no great difficulties to a finished cracksman. What it had in appearance it lacked in security.
    He worked at the combination slowly, his ear pressed close to the steel dial. He made a mistake once, growled low down in his throat, and began anew. And finally he triumphed and, with a grunt of satisfaction, swung the heavy door of the safe open.
    Now his torch was extinguished again for a moment, while, holding his breath, Jim Morlan listened again. He heard not the slightest sound to indicate the presence of danger. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, he once more flashed the torch.
    The strong box was before him. Morlan took a tool from the lining of his coat and snapped the lock. He pulled the strong box out. Jewels flashed in the light, gems in old-fashioned settings that made Morlan’s eyes glitter with avarice.
    Morlan extracted them and put them in a pile on the carpet before him. He opened another drawer and found a package of currency—a couple of hundred dollars, he guessed. It was not so much as he had expected, but it came in handy. And now he would have to find the tray of old coins.
    It did not take him long to find them. Putting the tray on the bottom of the safe, he glanced over it rapidly, seeking the particular coin