A whimsical, affectionate smile played over Jimmie Dale's lips at the old man's antics--and changed suddenly into one of consternation.

Jason was making directly now for the curtain behind which he stood! Perhaps, though, he would pass it by, and--Jason's hand reached out and grasped the portiere.
"Jason!" said Jimmie Dale sharply.
The old man staggered back as though he had been struck, tried to speak, choked, and gazed at the curtain with distended eyes.
"Is--is that you, sir--Master Jim--behind the curtain there ?" he finally blurted out.

"I--sir--you gave me a start--and the letter, Master Jim--" "Don't lose your head, Jason," said Jimmie Dale coolly.

"I've got the letter.

Now do as I bid you." "Yes--Master Jim," faltered the old man.
"Pull down the window shades and draw the portiere together," directed Jimmie Dale.
Jason, still overwrought and excited, obeyed a little awkwardly.
"Now the lights, Jason," instructed Jimmie Dale.