until
twelve. That's an hour yet."

He placed the plug in position but there came no answer over his private
wire. Warren cursed: this time in a dialect unknown to Shirley. The man
was asserting his most primitive nature now.

"What does that mean? He knows that it's important to-night. I wonder if
some one has squealed. You know what I said upstairs, Shine?" Warren's
voice was ominous. "I don't like the looks of things. And you're the
only one who has ever known the inside working of my system. I've even
told you the key to my code--Phil knows it in part, but there is nothing
I've kept from you."

Here Shirley's dramatic instinct asserted itself. In a sepulchral voice,
he spoke: "One key to the right, in writing. One to the left to read.
Hands up, Warren, you're wanted in Paris, and we have the goods on you!"

Placing the bulb light far to his left, he twisted the little catch
which kept it glowing permanently. The light fell full on the face of
Warren and Taylor as they sprang up back to back!

"Drop that revolver. It's all up now. You go to the chair for these
murders."

Warren shot for the body he supposed to be above the little light. As he
did so Shirley sent a bullet into the arch criminal's right wrist.
The weapon dropped from his hand to the table. Shine Taylor,
terror-stricken, staggered against his companion, groping for support.
Warren misunderstood it: he thought his assistant was trying to hold
him. The swift interpretation gave new fuel to the flame of mistrust
which had sprung up in his heart. He knew not how many men were
about him--he merely realized that his crafty plans had been set at
naught,--there could be only this one explanation. He struck at Taylor,
who moaned in pain.

"You cur, you've squealed on me!" With his uninjured left hand he caught
the other in his Oriental death grip, with all his consummate skill.
Astonished at the sudden move, Shirley rose to his feet. But he
hesitated too long.

With a faint gurgle, Shine Taylor, pickpocket, mechanical artist and
criminal genius sank to the mouldy ground of the cellar--lifeless!

Shirley snatched up the light, instinctively throwing its rays upon the
face of the dead man. It was horrible to see this ghastly ending of the
miserable life, so suddenly conceived and grewsomely executed! Here was
Warren's opportunity. He caught up his weapon from the table with the
left hand, and sent a shot at the intruder, leaping at the same time
towar