Thoms had evidently only begun to apply the chloroform--old Luddy was safe! Jimmie Dale ran his hand in under the pillow.

"If you ain't swiped them already they ought to be here!" he growled; "and if you have I'll--ah!" A little chamois bag was in his hand.

He laughed sneeringly at Thoms, opened the bag, allowed a few stones to trickle into his hand--and then, without stopping to replace them, dashed stones and bag into his pocket.

The door along the corridor crashed open.
"What's that ?" he gasped out, in well-simulated fright--and sprang for the ladder that led up to the roof.
It had all taken, perhaps, the minute that he had counted on--no more.
Noises came from the floors below now, a confusion of them--the shot, the scream had been heard by others, save those who had been in the locked room.

And the latter were outside now in the corridor, running to their accomplice's aid.
There was a pause at the outer door--then an oath--and coupled with the oath an exclamation: "The Gray Seal!" They had swept a flashlight over the door panel--Jimmie Dale, halfway up the ladder, smiled grimly.
The door opened--there was a rush of feet.