The Mystery Megapack

getting that check.”
    “You think it is in the safe?”
    “Possibly. Either there or in the desk. Get it for me, and I’ll give you these rings. Here—take them now!”
    She stripped them from her fingers, and Morlan took them from her hand and stepped back. His eyes glittered as he looked at them. Three or four thousand, at least, he thought. He chuckled as he looked at her again. “Well, I’ll play fair for once, lady,” he said. “I’ve already got the safe open, and if the check’s here, you can have it.”
    “And I hope—hope you take everything else!” she whispered. “Blakeley deserves it. But just get me the check and then let me get away. And I’ll thank you—and thank you! It is for eight hundred dollars, made payable to Peter van Lyne.”
    Jim Morlan knelt before the safe and pulled out a bundle of documents, bonds, receipts, lists of securities. Perhaps the check would be there, he thought. He’d give it to the fool girl, then take the other stuff and make his get-away. He would have nothing to fear from her. He might even learn her identity, and there would be possibilities of blackmail in the future.
    He began going through the papers. Once he glanced at her, and she had settled back in the chair again and was breathing heavily, evidently listening intently. She was frightened half to death, Morlan decided.
    He put his revolver down on the floor and hurried through the papers. He wanted to be done and on his way. He turned his head away from her for an instant—
    A sudden swish of silken skirts! Morlan turned quickly. She was out of the chair, standing just before him, her eyes flashing and a terrible look in her face. And she held a wicked-looking automatic that covered him steadily.
    “Up with your hands!” she ordered. “Up, or you’re a dead man!”
    Morlan was caught fairly. The unexpectedness of it did for him as much as the sight of the automatic. He lifted his hands slowly, while his lower jaw sagged in surprise and his eyes bulged.
    “Clever little burglar, aren’t you?” she said sneeringly. “You swallowed that story neatly, put aside your gun, let me catch you. Not very quick-witted, are you? A few years in prison may improve your wits.”
    “You—you—” Morlan gasped.
    “ Walk across the room and sit down in that chair!” she commanded. “And just try a trick, if you think it is best.”
    Morlan obeyed. He was alert, watching for a chance to make his getaway, but he did not have much hope. Something seemed to tell him that this girl would shoot at the slightest provocation.
    “I—was helpin’ you—” he stammered.
    “You fell for my story, that’s all! I got you to put aside your gun, turn away your head—”
    “What—you goin’ to do?” he asked.
    “What does a person generally do when a burglar is caught? You sit still, please.”
    She reached for the telephone on the table at her elbow. As she took down the receiver she held the automatic in her right hand, and not once did she take her eyes from his.
    She called a number. Jim Morlan knew that number well—it was police headquarters!
    “Send officers at once to 1720 Norton Place!” she ordered. “I’ve caught a burglar!”
    The receiver was returned to the hook, and once more she settled back in her chair, watching him.
    “On your way to prison,” she said. “I always had an opinion that professional burglars were clever, but it seems not.”
    “Let me go,” Morlan begged suddenly. “I—everything is there by the safe. I haven’t anything in my pockets except your rings. I’ll give those back—”
    “A man who transgresses the law must pay the penalty,” she told him.
    “I—I was driven to it,” Morlan whimpered. “Give me a chance, lady.”
    “And you’d be robbing somebody else tomorrow night.”
    “No! I’ll turn straight! If I got to prison now I’ll always be a crook. Give me a chance, lady, and I’ll turn straight.”
    “I am afraid not,” she said.
    She got up from the chair, and, still watching him, moved slowly to the hall door. She turned halfway from him, opened the door, glanced out into the hall, and closed the door again.
    “No use to call the servants,” she said. “I’ll just watch you until the police come.”
    “For Heaven’s sake, lady, let me go!” Jim Morlan implored. “I’ll run straight from now on.”
    “If I could believe that—” she said.
    “I swear it, lady,”
    “You’re frightened now because the police are coming.