He darted in, in time to see a figure making through the dark
for an open window.
"Who's there Here! Stop!" thundered the inventor, rushing forward.
But the intruder did not obey.
Hidden behind a book in a bookcase was the inventor's revolver. Mr.
Pollard hauled the book out, dropping it, and, in a trice, had the
weapon in his hand, racing again toward the window.
The intruder had gained the ground by the time that Mr. Pollard reached
the window.
"Stop, you thief! Hold up, or I'll shoot!" warned the inventor.
However, the skulker took to his heels. Pollard fired once, the flame
spitting from the muzzle of his revolver. But the figure still continued
in flight, and the inventor realized that there was no further use in
firing.
"That was odd," thought Pollard. "The fellow had on a uniform just such
as our boys wear. If it weren't so absurd, I might be tempted to
believe, despite the darkness, that it was Jack Benson. But _he_ would
have no need to break in here."
Then Mrs. Farnum appeared, with the servants, for the shot had alarmed
the household.
"Have you found that anything is missing from here?" inquired Mrs.
Farnum, while Mr. pollard searched and explained at the same time.
The inventor now halted before his desk, rummaging.
"Yes," he answered, dryly, though with a slight quaver in his voice. "The
thief found and departed with the drawings of a most important new
device, originated by Benson and his friends and finished by myself.
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