up at the appearance of
Barlow, as though at aid which had come just in time. But Barlow turned
upon Barney a cold police eye.

"I heard you brag that you were my stool. That's a lie."

"Why--why--Chief--" Barney stammered. He had counted upon help here,
where there had existed mutually advantageous relations for so long.

"I heard you say you had my protection. That's another lie. You've
squealed on a few people, but I've never given you a thing."

Barney gasped at this. He knew, as every one in the room also knew,
that Barlow was lying. But Barlow held all the cards. Rough and ruthless
police politician that he was, he made it his business always to hold
the highest cards. As sick of soul as a man can be, Barney realized that
Barlow was doing exactly what Barlow always did--was swinging to the
side that had the most evidence and that would prove most advantageous
to him. And Barney realized that he was suffering the appointed fate
of all stool-pigeons who are found out by their fellow criminals to be
stool-pigeons. Such informers are of no further use, and according to
the police code they must be given punishment so severe as to dissipate
any unhealthy belief on the public's part that there could ever have
been any alliance between the two.

"I've used this young lady who seems to have been Jimmie Carlisle's
daughter and now seems to be the daughter of this old-timer Joe Ellison,
for a little private sleuthing on my own hook," Barlow went on--for it
was the instinct of the man to claim the conception and leadership
of any idea in whose development he had a part. He spoke in a brusque
tone--as why should he not, since he was addressing an audience he
lumped together as just so many crooks? "Through this little stunt I
pulled to-night, I've got on to your curves, Barney Palmer. And yours,
too, Jimmie Carlisle. And I'm going to run the pair of you in."

This was too much for Barney Palmer. Even though he knew that his
position as a stool, who was known to be a stool, was without hope
whatever, he went utterly to pieces.

"For God's sake, Chief," he burst out frantically, "you're not going to
treat me like that! You could get me out of this easy! Think of all I've
done for you! For God's sake, Chief--for God's sake--"

"Shut up!" ordered Barlow, doubling a big fist.

Chokingly Barney obeyed. Old Jimmie, coward though he was, and lacking
entirely Barney's quality of a bravo, had accepted the situation with
the