l Pony that I want to see him, here," said The Spider.
"And don't worry, he knows me."

"The name, please."

"Never mind that. Just take a good look at me--and tell him. He'll
come."

The other rose and, stepping to the inner door, beckoned to some one in
the room beyond. The Spider seated himself, lighted a cigar, and
leaned back as though thoroughly at home. Presently a big man came in
briskly: a full-bodied, smooth-cheeked man who looked like the
prosperous manager of some legitimate business enterprise, save for the
large diamond horseshoe scintillating in his gray silk tie.

"Why, hello, Jim!" he cried, evidently surprised. He told his partner
casually that he could go on inside and look after things for a few
minutes. When the other had gone he turned to The Spider. "What can I
do for you, Jim?"

"Tell me where I can find White-Eye."

"White-Eye? He hasn't been in here for three or four years. I didn't
know he was in town."

"That might go with the bulls, Pony. I know White-Eye doesn't hang out
reg'lar here--ain't his kind of a joint. But you can tell me where he
does hang out. And I want to know."

"You looking for him, Jim?"

"No. But I've got a hunch he's looking for me."

"Just how bad do you think he wants to see you?" queried Baxter,
tilting back his swing-chair and glancing sideways at The Spider.

"About as bad as I want to see him," said The Spider.

"You haven't been in town for quite a while, Jim."

"No. Fifteen years, I reckon."

"You don't change much."

"I was thinking the same of you; always playing safe. You ought to
know better than to pull a bluff like that on me. But if that is your
game, I call. I want White-Eye."

Pony Baxter had plenty of nerve. But he knew The Spider. "I haven't
seen White-eye for over three years," he said, turning to his desk. He
tore a memorandum slip from a pad and wrote something on it and handed
it to The Spider. It was simply a number on Aliso Street. The Spider
glanced at it and tore the slip in two.

"He's stayin' with friends?" queried The Spider.

"Yes. And I think you know most of them."

"Thanks for the tip, Pony."

"You going down there alone, Jim?"

"I might."

"I wouldn't," said Baxter.

"I know dam' well _you_ wouldn't," laughed The Spider.

Scarcely had The Spider stepped into the cab when four men slouched
from a dark stairway entrance a few doors down the street and watched
the cab turn a distant cor