ose that there is
no show for him and he will be on your side."

"By ginger! you are right, so here goes. We are down on these people for
fair now."

"We are, Oscar."

Cad Metti, the strange, weird girl, who could flit from place to place
like a shadow, who could change her appearances as readily as a change
actress on the stage, glided away, and our hero, who also, as our
readers will recall, had worked a change, boldly went to the house which
Cad had indicated as the place where the woman and Girard had entered.
He stepped into the dark hall of the house, and then quickly worked a
second change; then he stepped to the street. The house was one well
known to the police; its character, we will say, was established as the
headquarters for the lowest sort of rogues. The owner pretended to keep
a respectable hotel. He had rooms to let, and on the first floor he ran
a barroom, and although the building itself was an old tumble-down
affair the barroom was quite expensively fitted up.

Oscar staggered into the house, and as good luck would have it only the
proprietor of the place was present at the moment and he was acting as
bartender. Oscar staggered up to the bar, his eyes rolling in his head,
but as they rolled, under their seemingly drunken glare shot forth a
keen, observant glance.

As stated, he staggered up to the bar and fell over on to his elbows,
demanding a drink.

"Where's your pile?" came the answer from the proprietor, a fellow named
Credo, who was a good-looking octoroon.

Oscar displayed a big roll of bills.

"All right; what will you have?"

"Whisky."

The man placed a bottle and glasses on the bar when the detective
reached over, caught the man's eye, and said in a very low but sharp,
decisive tone:

"Mart, on your life, look to business now."

The man started, his swarthy face assumed a ghastly hue, and there came
a look of terror to his eyes.

"You know me?"

"It's Dunne."

"Yes."

"What's your pull to-night?"

"You have visitors in your house."

The man trembled.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, and mark me, I know it all; yes, all. There is nothing for you in
it only through me. Mark well my words: I can trust you; if not, it's
bad for you."

"What is it you're after?"

"I am close down on this whole business."

"What business?"

"You want it straight?"

"Yes."

"_Redalli_."

Credo fell back like a man suddenly surprised. He appeared for an
instant to lose his breath, bu