When Wheeler went to bed he said to himself, “This will probably be my last night in this tavern.  I will go from here to Helena, and if things turn out right I may be able to make my stay there profitable.  I shan’t dare to stay here long after relieving Pettigrew of his bag of gold.”

Unlike Jefferson Pettigrew, Wheeler was a light sleeper.  He had done nothing to induce fatigue, and had no difficulty in keeping awake till half past eleven.  Then lighting a candle, he examined his watch, and ascertained the time.

“It will be safe enough now,” he said to himself.

He rose from his bed, and drew on his trousers.  Then in his stocking feet he walked along the corridor till he stood in front of Jefferson Pettigrew’s door.  He was in doubt as to whether he would not be obliged to pick the lock, but on trying the door he found that it was not fastened.  He opened it and stood within the chamber.

Cautiously he glanced at the bed.  Mr. Pettigrew appeared to be sleeping soundly.

“It’s all right,” thought Louis Wheeler.  “Now where is the bag of gold?”

It was not in open view, but a little search showed that the owner had put it under the bed.

“He isn’t very sharp,” thought Wheeler.  “He is playing right into my hands.  Door unlocked, and bag of gold under the bed.  He certainly is a very unsuspicious man.  However, that is all the better for me.  Really there isn’t much credit in stealing where all is made easy for you.”

There seemed to be nothing to do but to take the gold from its place of deposit and carry it back to his own room.  While there were a good many lodgers in the hotel, there seemed to be little risk about this, as every one was asleep.

Of course should the bag be found in his room that would betray him, but Mr. Wheeler proposed to empty the gold coins into his gripsack, and throw the bag out of the window into the back yard.

“Well, here goes!” said Wheeler cheerfully, as he lifted the bag, and prepared to leave the chamber.  But at this critical moment an unexpected sound struck terror into his soul.  It was the sound of a key being turned in the lock.

Nervously Wheeler hastened to the door and tried it.  It would not open.  Evidently it had been locked from the outside.  What could it mean?

At the same time there was a series of knocks on the outside of the door.  It was the signal that had been agreed upon between Mr. Pettigrew and Rodney.  Jefferson had given his key to Rodney, who had remained up and on the watch for Mr. Wheeler’s expected visit.  He, too, was in his stocking feet.

As soon as he saw Wheeler enter his friend’s chamber he stole up and locked the door on the outide.  Then when he heard the thief trying to open the door he rained a shower of knocks on the panel.

Instantly Jefferson Pettigrew sprang out of bed and proceeded to act.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, seizing Wheeler in his powerful grasp.