n' jolt him one on de point of de jaw, an' den, while
he's down an' out, chase meself fer de soivants' hall."

"Yes?" said Jimmy.

"Well, dis guy, he gits to de door, an' opens it, an' I'm just
gittin' ready fer one sudden boist of speed, when dere jumps out
from de room on de odder side de passage--you know de room--anodder
guy, an' gits de rapid strangleholt on de foist mug. Say, wouldn't
dat make youse glad you hadn't gone to de circus? Honest, it was
better dan Coney Island."

"Go on. What happened then?"

"Dey falls to scrappin' good an' hard. Dey couldn't see me, an' I
couldn't see dem, but I could hear dem bumpin' about and sluggin'
each other to beat de band. An', by and by, one of de mugs puts do
odder mug to de bad, so dat he goes down and takes de count; an' den
I hears a click. An' I know what dat is. It's one of de gazebos has
put de irons on de odder gazebo."

"Call them A, and B," suggested Jimmy.

"Den I hears him--de foist mug--strike a light, 'cos it's dark dere
'cos of de storm, an' den he says, 'Got youse, have I?' he says.
'I've had my eye on youse, t'inkin' youse was up to somet'in' of dis
kind. I've bin watching youse!' I knew de voice. It's dat mug what
calls himself Sir Tummas' vally. An' de odder--"

Jimmy burst into a roar of laughter.

"Don't, Spike! This is more than man was meant to stand. Do you mean
to tell me it is my bright, brainy, persevering friend Galer who has
been handcuffed and locked in the coal-cellar?"

Spike grinned broadly.

"Sure, dat's right," he said.

"It's a judgment," said Jimmy, delightedly. "That's what it is! No
man has a right to be such a consummate ass as Galer. It isn't
decent."

There had been moments when McEachern's faithful employee had filled
Jimmy with an odd sort of fury, a kind of hurt pride, almost to the
extent of making him wish that he really could have been the
desperado McEachern fancied him. Never in his life before had he sat
still under a challenge, and this espionage had been one. Behind the
clumsy watcher, he had seen always the self-satisfied figure of
McEachern. If there had been anything subtle about the man from
Dodson's, he could have forgiven him; but there was not. Years of
practise had left Spike with a sort of sixth sense as regarded
representatives of the law. He could pierce the most cunning
disguise. But, in the case of Galer, even Jimmy could detect the
detective.

"Go on," he said.

Spike proceeded.

"Well,