"convinced that something was amiss with him, she rushed down the steps—for the house was none other than the opium den in which you found me to-night—and running through the front room she attempted to ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. at the foot of the stairs, however, she met this lascar scoundrel of whom i have spoken, who thrust her back and, aided by a dane, who acts as assistant there, pushed her out into the street. filled with the most maddening doubts and fears, she rushed down the lane and, by rare good-fortune, met in fresno street a number of constables with an inspector, all on their way to their beat. the inspector and two men accompanied her back, and in spite of the continued resistance of the proprietor, they made their way to the room in which mr. st. clair had last been seen. there was no sign of him there. in fact, in the whole of that floor there was no one to be found save a crippled wretch of hideous aspect, who, it seems, made his home there. both he and the lascar stoutly swore that no one else had been in the front room during the afternoon. so determined was their denial that the inspector was staggered, and had almost come to believe that mrs. st. clair had been deluded when, with a cry, she sprang at a small deal box which lay upon the table and tore the lid from it. out there fell a cascade of children’s bricks. it was the toy which he had promised to bring home.