zied way; Connie
Myers was callously folding his letter, while he watched the other
warily--neither of the men had heard the sound.

And then, quick, almost on the instant, came a rush of feet, a crash
upon the front door--an imperative command to open in the name of the
law. THE POLICE! Jimmie Dale's brain was working now with lightning
speed. Somehow the police had stumbled upon the crime in that tenement;
and, as he had foreseen in such an event, had identified Doyle. But they
could not be sure that any one was present here in the house now--they
could not see a light any more than he had. He must get Mike Hagan
away--must see that Connie Myers did NOT get away. Myers was on his
feet now, fear struck in his turn, the letter clutched in a tight-closed
fist, his revolver swung out, poised, in the other hand. Hagan, too, was
on his feet, and, unheeded now by Connie Myers, was wrenching his wrists
apart.

Another crash upon the door--another. Another demand in a harsh voice to
open it. Then some one running around to the window at the side of the
house--and Jimmie Dale sprang forward.

There was the roar of a report, a blinding flash almost in Jimmie Dale's
eyes, as Connie Myers, whirling instantly at his entrance, fired--and
missed. It happened quick then, in the space of the ticking of a
watch--before Jimmie Dale, flinging himself forward, had reached the
man. Like a defiant challenge to their demand it must have seemed to the
officers outside, that shot of Connie Myers at Jimmie Dale, for it was
answered on the instant by another through the side window. And the
shot, fired at random, the interior of the room hidden from the officers
outside by the drawn shades, found its mark--and Connie Myers, a bullet
in his brain, pitched forward, dead, upon the floor.

"QUICK!" Jimmie Dale flung at Hagan. "Get that letter out of his hand!"
He jumped for the lamp on the floor, extinguished it, and turned again
toward Hagan. "Have you got it?" he whispered tensely.

"Yes," said Hagan, in a numbed way.

"This way, then!" Jimmie Dale caught Hagan's arm, and pulled the other
across the room and into the kitchen to the trapdoor. "Quick!" he
breathed again. "Get down there--quick! And no noise! They don't know
how many are in the house. When they find HIM they'll probably be
satisfied."

Hagan, stupefied, dazed, obeyed mechanically--and, in an instant, the
trapdoor closed behind them, Jimmie Dale was standing beside the other
i