ts around him.

A dozen of the crimes that had appalled and staggered New York they had
committed under his leadership; and then, it seemed, they had quarrelled
furiously, the three pitted against Stangeist, threatening him,
demanding a more equitable share of the proceeds. None was better aware
than Stangeist that threats from men of their calibre were likely to
result in a grim aftermath--and Stangeist, yesterday, the Tocsin said,
had answered them as no other man than Stangeist would either have
thought of or have dared to do. One by one, at separate times, covering
the other with a revolver, Stangeist had permitted them to read
a document that was addressed to the district attorney. It was a
confession, complete in every detail, of every crime the four together
had committed, implicating Stangeist as fully and unreservedly as it
did the other three. It required no commentary! If anything happened
to Stangeist, a stab in the dark, for instance, a bullet from some dark
alleyway, a blackjack deftly wielded, as only Australian Ike, The Mope
or Clarie Deane knew how to wield it--the document automatically became
a DEATH SENTENCE for Australian Ike, The Mope, and Clarie Deane!

It was very simple--and, evidently, it had been effective, as witness
the renewal of their operations in the murder of Roessle that afternoon.
Fear and avarice had both probably played their part; fear of the man
who would with such consummate nerve fling his life into the balance
to turn the tables upon them, while he jeered at them; avarice that
prompted them to get what they could out of Stangeist's brains and
leadership, and to be satisfied with what they COULD get--since they
could get no more!

Satisfied? Jimmie Dale shook his head. No; that was hardly the
word--cowed, perhaps, for the moment, would be better. But afterward,
with a document like that in existence, when they would never be safe
for an instant--well, beasts in the cages had been known to get the
better of the man with the whip, and beasts were gentle things compared
with Australian Ike, The Mope, and Clarie Deane! Some day they would
reverse the tables on the Indian Chief--if they could. And if they
couldn't it would not be for the lack of trying.

There would be another act in that drama of the House Divided before the
curtain fell! And there would be a sort of grim, poetic justice in it, a
temptation almost to let the play work itself out to its own inevitable
conclusion,