ations--witnessed so terrific a
struggle, brief as it was.

"I'll kill you!" roared the maddened brute. "You'll never leave your
office, alive, to repeat what I've told! I'll kill you, with my bare
hands, first, d--n you!"

But even as he spoke, his voice ended in a surprised scream of agony,
which told of strained sinews and ripped tendons, and he fell in a
twisted, crumpled heap of quivering, inert flesh at the detective's
feet, the victim of a scientific hold and throw which had not been
included in his pugilistic education.

Instantly Blaine's hand found an electric bell in the wall, and almost
simultaneously the door opened and three powerful figures sprang upon
the huge, recumbent form and bound him fast.

"Take him away," ordered the detective. "I'll have the warrant ready
for him."

"Warrant for what?" spluttered Carlis, through bruised and bleeding
lips. "I didn't do anything to you! You attacked me because I wouldn't
swear to a false charge. I got a legal right to try to defend
myself!"

"You've convicted yourself, out of your own mouth," retorted Blaine.

The other looked into his eyes and quailed, but blustered to the end.

"Nobody heard, but you, and my word goes, in this town! What d'you
mean--convicted myself?"

For answer Blaine again touched that little spring in the protruding
under-ledge of his desk, and out upon the trenchant stillness, broken
only by the rapid, stertorous breathing of the manacled man, burst the
strident tones of that same man's voice, just as they had sounded a
few minutes before:

"'But the big money--the money Lawton made by grinding down the
masses--wouldn't you like a slice of it yourself, Blaine--a nice, fat,
juicy slice.... Oh, we're all in it, you may as well be!... The play
got too high for Rockamore, and he cashed in; you've bluffed old
Mallowe till he's looking up sailing dates for Algiers, but I knew
you'd be sensible, when it came to the scratch, and divide the pot,
rather than blow your whistle and have the game pulled.... Who made it
possible for Mallowe to palm off those miles of vacant lots--as
improved city property, of course--on Lawton without his knowledge,
and even have them recorded in his name, but me? What am I boss for,
if I don't own a little man like the Recorder of Deeds?'"

"What is it?" gasped the wretched Carlis, in a fearful whisper, when
the voice had ceased. "What is that--infernal thing?"

"A detectaphone," returned Blaine laconica