by Musgrave—had decided to spend the evening. 

 Mr. Jones was not visible when Nick looked into the room. 

 The bedroom adjoining was also empty. 

 Nick ran through the flat, but saw nobody. He returned to the parlor, and there stood Mr. Jones under the chandelier. 

 "Well, upon my word!" exclaimed Jones, "how did you get here?" 

 "I might ask you the same," said Nick, "but it isn't worth while." 

 "I've been here all the time." 

 "Except when you were on the roof." 

 "Nonsense! What should I be doing on the roof." 

 "It wasn't what you were doing; it was what you were undoing that bothered me. You were undoing the knot with which I fastened my rope before I descended your air shaft to get a peep at your servant." 

 "Nonsense again, Mr. Carter. How could I get to the roof?" 

 "I'll show you just how it was done. In the first place, you saw me coming back to the house, and you guessed what I was going to do. 

 "You went into this room," and Nick dragged Jones into a sort of closet adjoining the parlor, "and you got out of that window onto the fire escape. 

 "That led you to the roof, and the rest was simple. You saw me go down, and you tried to make me go down farther and a good deal faster. But you failed, and the game's up. Now come to headquarters again." 

 "What for?" 

 "For trying to kill me. That's the charge against you. And I haven't got through with you on that other matter." 

 "But for heaven's sake pity my wife!" 

 "What's the matter with her?" 

 "She will be crazy when she gets back and finds me gone." 

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