on to your burglary at
Branchville, you have made yourself accessory to a plot to commit a
willful murder."

"I didn't! By Heaven, I didn't!" Tuttle answered. "I didn't have
anything to do with that."

"With what?" asked Garrison. "You see you plunge into every trap I
lay, almost before it is set."

He rose, went to his closet, never without his eye on his man, searched
on the floor and brought forth the cold iron bomb. This he abruptly
placed on Tuttle's knee.

Tuttle shrank in terror.

"Oh, Lord! I didn't! I didn't know they went in to do a thing like
that!" he said. "I've been pretty desperate, I admit, Mr. Garrison,
but I had no hand in this!"

The sweat on his forehead advertised his fear. He looked at Garrison
in a stricken, ghastly manner that almost excited pity.

"But you knew that two of Robinson's assassins were to meet me in the
park," said Garrison. "You procured their services--and expected to
read of an accident to me in the papers the following morning."

He was risking a mere conjecture, but it went very near to the truth.

"So help me, I didn't go as far as that!" said Tuttle. "I admit I
stole the letter up at Branchville, and sent it to Robinson at once. I
admit I followed you back to New York and told him all I could. But I
only gave him the names and addresses of the dagos, and I never knew
what they had to do!"

Garrison took the bomb and placed it on his bureau.

"Very good," he said. "That makes you, as I said before, an accomplice
to the crime attempted--in addition to the burglary, for which I could
send you up. To square this off you'll go to work for me, and begin by
supplying the names and addresses of your friends."

Tuttle was a picture of abject fear and defeat. His jaw hung down; his
eyes were bulging in their sockets.

"You--you mean you'll give me a chance?" he said. "I'll do
anything--anything you ask, if only you will!"

"Look here, Tuttle, your willingness to do anything has put you where
you are. But I'll give you a chance, with the thorough understanding
that the minute you attempt the slightest treachery you'll go up in
spite of all you can do. First, we'll have the names of the dagos."

Tuttle all but broke down. He was not a hardened criminal. He had
merely learned a few of the tricks by which crime may be committed,
and, having failed in detective employment, had no substantial calling
and was willing to attempt even questionable jobs, if