itedly.
"And--and, say, I was afraid I was too late. Don't you go in there! For
God's sake, don't you go! They're layin' a trap for you! They're goin'
to bump you off! I know all about it!"

"You know? What do you mean?" she asked quickly. "How do you know?"

"I quit my job a few days after that fellow you called Danglar tried
to murder me that night you saved me," said the Sparrow, with a savage
laugh. "I knew he had it in for you, and I guess I had something comm'
to him on my own account too, hadn't I? That's the job I've been on
ever since--tryin' to find the dirty pup. And I found him! But it wasn't
until to-night, though you can believe me there weren't many joints in
the old town where I didn't look for him. My luck turned to-night. I
spotted him comin' out of Italian Joe's bar. See? I followed him. After
a while he slips into a lane, and from the street I saw him go into a
shed there. I worked my way up quiet, and got as near as I dared without
bein' heard and seen, and I listened. He was talkin' to a woman. I
couldn't hear everything they said, and they quarreled a lot; but I
heard him say something about framin' up a job to get somebody down to
the old iron plant behind Jake Malley's saloon and bump 'em off, and I
heard him say there wouldn't be any White Moll by morning, and I put two
and two together and beat it for here."

Rhoda Gray reached out and caught the Sparrow's hand.

"Thank you, Marty! You haven't got it quite right--though, thank Heaven,
you got it the way you did, since you are here now!" she said fervently.
"It wasn't me, it wasn't the White Moll, they expected to get here; it's
the man who helped me that night to clear you of the Hayden-Bond robbery
that Danglar meant to make you shoulder. He risked his life to do it,
Marty. They've got him a prisoner somewhere in there; and they're
coming back to--to torture him into telling them where I am, and--and
afterwards to do away with him. That's why I'm here, Marty--to get him
away, if I can, before they come back."

The Sparrow whistled low under his breath.

"Well, then, I guess it's my hunt too," he said coolly. "And I guess
this is where a prison bird horns in with the goods. Ever since
I've been looking for that Danglar guy, I've been carryin' a full
kit--because I didn't know what might break, or what kind of a mess
I might want to get out of. Come on! We ain't got no time. There's
a couple of broken pickets down there. We might be seen