tly open window at the front, he went forward to the corner, peered
cautiously about, and tiptoed to within a few feet of it.

At once the voices came to him plainly.

"You gotta dat?"

"Stan' in doo'way, hat in yo' han', upside down," responded the colored
man's gruff voice.

Wondering, Jack drew nearer.

"At halfa da past two by da beeg clock," continued the first speaker.

There was a pause, and the negro repeated, "At half pas' two by dah city
clock, shahp."

Suddenly it came to Jack. At the dictation of the Italian, the negro was
writing a "Black Hand" letter--ordering one of their victims to display
some signal to show that the demand for money would be complied with!

The Italian's next sentence left no further doubt. "If you no giva da
sign, you deada man by seex clock."

At the words, and the fierceness with which they were uttered, Jack felt
a chill run up his spine. Had he followed his immediate impulse he would
have fled. But determining to learn if possible who the letter was for,
he waited.

"What numbah?" asked the negro.

"Feefity-nine Main."

The Italian restaurant! Another letter to Spanelli! The men he was after!

Jack waited to hear no more, but tiptoeing back about the corner, was off
for the woods, jubilant at his success.

Indeed Jack was over jubilant--so jubilant that he forgot the necessity
of caution, made a short cut across an open space in full view of the
shanty, and half way was brought to a sudden realization of his mistake
by the creak of an opening door. In consternation he at once saw he could
not reach cover before being seen, and also that did he run, the
Black-Handers would understand they had been discovered.

With quick presence of mind he recognized and instantly did the one thing
possible. Turning, he headed back boldly for the cabin. The next instant
the three Italians came into view, immediately discovered him, and
halted. Secretly trembling, but with a cool front, Jack approached them
as they stood, excitedly whispering.

"Would you kindly tell me the time?" he asked.

The three men exchanged glances, then, as at a signal, stepped forward
and surrounded him. "Now, whata you want?" demanded one of them sharply,
thrusting his dark face close to Jack's. Before Jack could repeat his
question the shanty door opened and the negro appeared. Exclaiming
angrily, he ran toward them.

"W'at he want? W'at he want now?" he demanded.

"He say, whata da time," repeat