The Mystery Megapack

he had been told to get. He wanted to put that in a special pocket, away from the others. It was to be the best part of the night’s haul.
    A sound reached his ears. Morlan snapped out the torch and remained silent and motionless, crouching before the safe. He heard the sound again—steps in the hall.
    A door creaked as though it was being opened slowly. Morlan took a revolver from his pocket and held it ready. He was caught, in a way, if this unknown entered the library and snapped on the lights. But he would have the advantage of surprise, perhaps—and he could make a get-away. He did not have time to scoop up the coins and the jewelry and currency and slip the loot into one of his pockets. He heard the rustling of silk. And then the lights flashed on.
    Just inside the hall door stood a young woman in evening dress.
    CHAPTER II
    Jim Morlan sprang to his feet and menaced her with the revolver.
    “Oh!” she gasped.
    “Silence!” Morlan commanded. “Shut that door behind you! Not a sound or I’ll shoot!”
    She seemed stupefied, but she obeyed mechanically, as though through the force of the fear he had inspired. She closed the door gently, and then swayed against the wall, one hand to her forehead.
    “Sit down over there by that table!” Morlan commanded in a hoarse whisper.
    She staggered across the room and collapsed in the chair. Her eyes were wide, and she appeared to be badly frightened.
    “You—you’re a burglar!” she whispered. “You—you were robbing the safe—””
    “Naw, I’m just the rent collector,” Morlan whispered in reply, grinning. “Seems to me you butted in at the wrong time. What’re you doin’ here? I understood the family was in the mountains.”
    “You—robbing the safe—”
    “Yeh, I suppose so. You just be quiet now and don’t make a move, and as soon as I collect these little trophies I’ve found I’ll decide what to do with you. I can’t be havin’ my get-away spoiled by any young skirt.”
    She seemed to be breathing easier now. She bent forward a bit in her chair. Morlan glanced sharply at her and stooped to pick up the swag.
    “Wait!” she implored. “I—I don’t belong in this house—”
    “Then what are you doin’ here?” Morlan asked. “Burglar yourself?”
    “I—yes, in a way.”
    “That’s good! You don’t look the part,” said Morlan. “Folks don’t burgle in Paris gowns and with their hair dressed that way. Are you tryin’ to play some kind of a game on me? Anybody else comin’ after you?”
    “No.”
    “You play a trick, my lady, and it’ll be your last. This gun I’m holdin’ is a businesslike little article.”
    “I—please listen to me,” she begged. “Maybe you—can help me—”
    “I don’t quite get this.”
    “Listen,” she begged again. “I—I came here—to get something, I had a key to the front door. I don’t belong in this house, but I—I’ve been a guest here often. I belong to the same social set—”
    “What’s all this?” Morlan wanted to know.
    “Do you know whose house this is?” she asked.
    “Sure. It’s Blakeley’s house.”
    “And do you know Blakeley? A polished gentleman, isn’t he—rich, has social position, charitable, all that!”
    She sneered. “Do you know why I am here?” she asked .
    “I’m listenin’.”
    “Blakeley is a man of fifty-five, a widower.”
    “I know all that. Get down to cases.”
    “And he—he wants to marry me. Can you imagine me marrying a man like him? There—there is another man, you see, but that doesn’t stop Blakeley. And so—”
    “Pardon me, lady, but I ain’t got time to hear the latest society news.”
    “Please wait—listen, and help me. I’ll make it worth your while. See—see these rings? They are worth several thousand, I suppose. I—I’ll give them to you if you’ll help me!”
    “Very nice. But I can just take ’em without helpin’ you at all,” said Morlan.
    “But you wouldn’t do that, I’m sure. And it is such a little thing I want.”
    “Go ahead with the story.”
    “I’ve got a foolish young brother. Blakeley got him gambling at the club, and he—he forged a check. And now Blakeley has it—and if I don’t agree to marry him —”
    “He’ll hand the boy over to the cops?”
    “Yes,” she breathed. “It’s an old scheme, of course, but it is terrible for all that. I want to save my brother—and myself. I knew the family was away, and I slipped here from a party. I had some wild idea of