regaining
consciousness, certainly without supplying any of the information that
was so determinedly sought.

Yes, he saw it now! Their backs were against the wall, they were at
their wits' end, these men! The knowledge that the chauffeur possessed,
that they KNEW he possessed, was evidently life and death to them. To
kill the man before they had wormed out of him what they wanted to know,
or, at least, until, by holding him a prisoner, they had exhausted every
means at their command to make him speak, was the last thing they would
do!

Jimmie Dale sat for a long time quite motionless. The car was speeding
at a terrific rate along a straight stretch of road. He could almost
have sworn, guided by some intuitive sense, that they were in the
country. Well, even if it were so, what did that prove! They might
have started FROM New York itself--only to return to it when they had
satisfied themselves that he was sufficiently duped. Or they might have
started legitimately from outside New York, and be going toward the city
now. Since the ultimate destination was New York, and they had made no
attempt to hide that from him, it was useless to speculate--for at best
it could be only speculation. He had decided that once before! The man
at his side felt again over the scarf to see that it was in place.

Curiously now Jimmie Dale recalled the inward monitor that had warned
him the honours had not all been his in this first round with the Crime
Club to-night. If they had deliberately murdered the chauffeur because
of a refusal to answer, they would equally have done the same to him.
Fool that he had been not to have seen that before! And yet would it
have made any difference? He shook his head. He could not have acted to
any better advantage than he had done. He could not--his lips curled in
grim derision--have been any more convincing.

Convincing! It was all clear enough now! If the chauffeur had suffered
death rather than talk, even admitting the fact that they had more
grounds for suspecting the chauffeur's complicity, would his, Jimmie
Dale's, mere denial, his choice, too, of death, have been any the more
convincing, or have saved his life where it had not saved the other's?
A certain added respect for these men, against whom, until the end now,
his victory or theirs, he realised he was fighting for his life, came
over him as he recognised the touch of a master hand. They did not know
where to find the Tocsin; the package th