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Updated: June 9, 2025
As Anisty, however, if he chose to assume that expert's identity for the nonce, he would be placed at once on a plane of equality with the girl; from a fellow of her craft she could hardly refuse attentions.
What a feather in one's cap to have forestalled Dan Anisty!... But hadn't you better be a little careful with those lights? You seem to forget that there are servants in the house. Really, you know, I find you most romantically audacious, Mr. Anisty quite in keeping with your reputation." "You overwhelm me," he murmured. "Believe me, I have little conceit in my fame, such as it is."
What had she not suffered, what perils had she not braved, to prove that there was honor even in thieves! It could have been at no inconsiderable danger, a danger not incommensurate with that of robbing a tigress of her whelps, that she had managed to filch his loot from that pertinacious and vindictive soul, Anisty! But she had accomplished it; and all for him! If only he could find her, now!
"That'll be enough now if you'll light it for me." She glanced dubiously round the now almost deserted room; and a waiter started forward as if animated by a spring. Anisty motioned him imperiously back. "Go on," he coaxed; "no one can see."
Anisty, as presented by the Sketch-Artist-on-the-Spot, to some one whom he, Maitland, had known in the dark backwards and abysm of time, merely drew from him the comment: "Homely brute!" And he laid the papers aside, cradling his chin in the palm of one hand and staring for a weary while out of the car window at a reeling and moonsmitten landscape.
In vain: even a two-column portrait of Mr. Dan Anisty, cracksman, accompanied by a vivacious catalogue of that notoriety's achievements in the field of polite burglary, hardly stirred his interest. An elusive resemblance which he traced in the features of Mr.
Anisty lifted his brows and shoulders at one and the same time and bowed slightly. "Well, my good man?" "I'm a detective from Headquarters, Mr. Maitland. We got a 'phone from Greenfields, Long Island, this morning from the local police. Your butler " "Ah! I see; about this man Anisty? You don't mean to tell me what? I shall discharge Higgins at once. Just on my way to breakfast. Won't you join me?
Maitland's Panama was hanging on the hat-rack, Maitland's collection of walking-sticks bristled in a stand beneath it. Anisty appropriated the former and chose one of the latter. "Fair exchange," he considered with a harsh laugh. "After all, he loses nothing ... but the jewels." He was out and at the foot of the stairs just as O'Hagan reached the ground floor from the basement. "Ah, O'Hagan!"
Under the stimulus of the champagne, to say naught of his relief at having evaded the ordeal of the cutlery, Hickey discoursed variously and at length upon the engrossing subject of Anisty, gentleman-cracksman, while the genial counterpart of Daniel Maitland listened with apparent but deceptive apathy, and had much ado to keep from laughing in his guest's face as the latter, perspiringly earnest, unfolded his plans for laying the burglar by the heels.
"It's a good, strong safe, and and there are plenty of servants around," he concluded largely. "Precisely. Likewise plenty of burglars. You don't suppose a determined criminal like Anisty, for instance, would bother himself about a handful of thick-headed servants, do you?" "Anisty?" with a rising inflection of inquiry. Bannerman squared himself to face his host, elbows on table.
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