right!"

Recovering his breath and the control of his nerves at about the same
time, the detective, his voice trembling in spite of himself, turned to
the man who had dragged him from almost under the big wheels and said:

"Sir, you did save my life! You saved me from a horrible death, and
saying so doesn't begin to thank you or tell you what I mean. If
you'll have the goodness, sir, to call a taxi for me, and come with me
to my hotel, I can then--"

The colonel came to a halting and sudden pause as he saw the face of
the slim little man who had saved him--a face covered with freckles,
which were splotched over the cheeks, the turned-up nose, and reaching
back to the wide-set ears.

"Spotty!--Spotty Morgan!" gasped the detective, as he recognized a New
York gunman, who was supposed to have more than one killing to his
credit, or debit, according as you happen to reckon.

"Spotty Morgan! You--you--here!" gasped the detective.

The rescuer, who had been grinning cheerfully, went white under his
copper freckles.

"My gawd! It's you! Colonel--"

Further words were stopped by the detective's hand placed softly,
quickly, and so dexterously as hardly to be seen by those in the crowd,
over the mouth of the speaker.

"No names--here!" whispered the colonel in the big ear of the man who
had saved him from death.

The slim little man gave a wiggle like an eel, and would have darted
away through the crowd, but there was a vice-like grip on his shoulder
that he knew but too well.

"Spotty, my name's Brentnall for the present," said the colonel, with a
grim smile. "And you'd better come with me. How about it?"

Spotty Morgan hesitated a moment, nodded silently, and then, arm in arm
with the man whom he had pulled from the path of the big truck, went
down the street, the mist and rain swallowing them up.

CHAPTER V

AMY'S APPEAL

Tinkling glasses formed a friendly rampart between Colonel Ashley and
Spotty Morgan. Spotty looked narrowly and shrewdly at the detective.

"I didn't expect to see you here," remarked the gunman, speaking out of
the side of his mouth, with scarcely a motion of his lips--a habit
acquired through long practice in preventing prison keepers from
finding out that he was disobeying the rules regarding silence. "Not
for a minute did I expect to run across you here, Colonel As--"

"Not that name, Spotty, if you please," and the fisherman-detective
smiled in easy fashion. "You kn