something about a gadget, Tommy. At--80 Hosain, you said?"

Coghlan nodded. "Yes. Duval and Lieutenant Ghalil said they were going to make inquiries there."

"After dinner," suggested Laurie, "we could take the car and go look at the outside, anyhow? I don't think Father has anything planned. It would be interesting--"

"Not a bad thought," said Mannard. "It's a pleasant night. We'll all go."

Laurie smiled ruefully at Coghlan. And Coghlan resolutely assured himself he was pleased--it was much better for him not to be anywhere with Laurie, alone. But he was not cheered in the least.

Mannard pushed back his chair.

"It's irritating!" he grunted. "I can't figure out what they're driving at! By all means let's go look at that infernal house!"

They went up to Mannard's suite on the third floor of the Petra, and he telephoned and ordered the car he'd rented during his stay in Istanbul. Laurie put a scarf over her head. Somehow even that looked good on her, as Coghlan realized depressedly.Appolonius the Great had blandly assumed an invitation and continued to talk about his political enterprise of bribery. He believed, he said, that there might be some ancient manuscripts turned up when enlightenment swept over the furtive villages of his people. Coghlan gathered that he claimed as many as two or three thousand fellow-countrymen. The car was reported as ready. "I shall walk down the stairs!" announced Appolonius, with a wave of his pudgy hand. "I feel somehow grand and dignified, now that someone has given me money for my people. I do not think that anyone can feel dignified in a lift." Mannard grunted. They moved toward the wide stairs, Appolonius in the lead. The lights went out, everywhere. Immediately there was a gasp and a crashing sound. Mannard's voice swore furiously, halfway down the flight of curving steps. A moment ago he had been at the top landing. The lights came on again. Mannard came storming up the steps. He glared about him, breathing hard. He was the very opposite of the typical millionaire just then. He looked hardboiled, athletic, spoiling for a fight. "My dear friend!" gasped Appolonius. "What happened?" "Somebody tried to throw me down-stairs!" growled Mannard balefully. "They grabbed my foot and heaved! If I'd gone the way I was thrown--if I hadn't handled myself right--I'd have gone over the stair-rail and broken my blasted neck!" He glared about him. But there were only the four of them in sight. Mannard 

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