ell, and so deep was their indignation
against the man who had ruined the peace of their home that they
encouraged Reg in his revenge.

"You are young and strong, Reg. I wish I was too, then I would go with
you," said Whyte; "but I am getting too old."

"Leave it to me, Whyte. I have sworn to brand him, and as long as I have
breath in my body, I will not give in."

The following day, Reg engaged a private room in the hotel, and gave
instructions that Mr. Thomas was to be shown up immediately on his
arrival, an event which soon happened.

"How do you do, Morris?" said Tommy, genially coming towards him.
"Awfully good of you to think of me."

"Yes, I wanted to have a chat with you."

"You don't look well, old fellow. Nothing wrong, I hope."

"I have a little trouble, but--"

"Then let me share it, old fellow."

"What will you have to drink?" asked Reg, disregarding the invitation.

"Ah! the best way to kill trouble. Drink, and put your care in the
grave."

The liquor was brought, and the waiter dismissed with instructions that
they were not on any account to be disturbed.

"Do you mind my drawing the curtains?" said Reg, "the light affects my
eyes."

"Not at all, old man. Here's good luck to you," answered Tommy, filling
his glass.

Reg did not reply, but going to the door, he locked it, and put the key
in his pocket. Tommy looked on in amazement. The little man had not much
pluck, and he felt his knees tremble.

"What's the joke, old chap!" he asked, in a voice intended to be
jocular.

"Thomas Thomas, listen to me. Amy Johnson is dead."

"Dead!" gasped Tommy, upsetting his glass in astonishment.

"Yes, she is dead. Your friend Wyck murdered her."

"Murdered her!"

"Yes, murdered her," reiterated Reg.

"My God, old chap, I'm----"

"Silence!" cried Reg, in a stern voice. "You were the man who introduced
her to him, and it is to you I look for some explanation. Who is this
Villiers Wyckliffe, and what is his power?"

"My dear Morris, really I don't know. I always thought he was a straight
chap."

"Tommy, you're a liar. You do know, so out with it."

"But I've sworn not to divulge," almost whined Tommy.

"Then you refuse," said Reg, placing pen, ink and paper before Tommy,
and producing a revolver from his pocket. Then he quietly placed his
watch on the table in front of him, and said:

"There are pen and paper. If you want to write to your friends, do so,
for you have five minutes to liv