clean out that hole, as we did this one!" muttered Sawyer.
"You go for Trubus, Burke, with one of the men, while I will take the
rest and close in on their 'Mercantile' office downstairs. We'll put
that slave market out of business in three minutes."

They were soon on Fifth Avenue. The elevators carried the policemen up
to the third floor, and they sprang into the offices of the "Mercantile
Association" with little ado.

The small, wan man who sat at the desk was just in the act of sniffing
a cheering potion of cocaine as the head of Captain Sawyer appeared
through the door. With a quick movement the lookout pressed two
buttons. One of them resulted in a metallic click in the door of the
strong iron grating. The other rang a warning bell inside the private
office of John Clemm.

Sawyer pushed and shoved at the grilled barrier, but it was safely
locked with a strong, secret bolt.

"Open this, or I'll shoot!" exclaimed the irate Captain.

"You can't get in there. We're a lawful business concern," replied the
little man, squirming toward the door which led to the big waiting
room. "Where's your search warrant. I know the law, and you police
can't fool me."

"This is my search warrant!" exclaimed Sawyer, as he sent a bullet
crashing into the wall, purposely aiming a foot above the lookout's
head. "Quick, open this door. The next shot won't miss!"

There was a sound of overturned chairs and cries of alarm inside the
door. The little man felt that he had sounded his warning and lived up
to his duty. Had he completed that sniffing of the "koke," he would
doubtless have been stimulated to enough pseudo-courage to face the
entire Police Department single-handed--as long as the thrill of the
drug lasted. A majority of the desperate deeds performed by the
criminals in New York, so medical examinations have proved, are carried
on under the stimulus of this fearful poison, which can be obtained
with comparative ease throughout the city.

But the lookout was deprived of his drug. He even endeavored to take a
sniff as the captain and his men shoved and shook the iron work of the
grating.

"Drop it!" cried Sawyer, pulling the trigger again and burying another
bullet in the plaster.

"Oh, oh! Don't shoot!" cried the lookout weakly. He trembled as he
advanced to the grating and removed the emergency bolt.

"Grab him!" cried Sawyer to one of his men. "Come with me, fellows."
He rushed into the waiting room