ting that Lynch was not entitled to any part of the money received
from the sale of the pictures.

"It was our racket, and you just horned in," he protested. "You took
none of the risk."

"If I pass the word around, you'll never get out of town with any of
the money," Lynch retorted sneeringly.

"We're willing to divide up," Hoges said hastily, "but in return we
expect a split on the pearl necklace."

"That was a deal between Cron and me."

The argument waxed hotter, the men's voices rising until Hanley Cron
feared they could be heard outside.

"Pipe down," he ordered. "Do you want to bring the police? The
important thing now is to get away from here before we're caught. Why
not split everything four ways and no hard feelings?"

"Okay," Lynch growled. "We divide even. Where are the pearls?"

"They're safe here," Cron answered. "I'll get them."

He started across the room, but just then a loud knock sounded on the
door.

The four froze into tense attitudes.

"Better answer," Lynch whispered. "Maybe it's only your landlord."

"Who's there?" Cron demanded.

"Open up!" a voice shouted. "Open in the name of the law!"

"The police!" Cron muttered in an undertone. "Quick! Down the fire
escape!"

"Open the door or we'll break it down!" came the shouted warning.

Cron and his companions ran to the window, there to halt in dismay as
they faced three policemen who had crept up the iron stairway so
quietly that they had not been heard. The four crooks were covered
before they could reach for their guns.

"Hands up!" An officer ordered tersely, stepping through the window
into the studio.

Cron and his confederates sullenly obeyed.

"What is the meaning of this outrage?" Cron asked with a show of
indignation. "Do you realize who I am?"

"Maybe we'll be more sure of it after you've been finger-printed and
mugged," the policeman retorted. "Keep your hands up."

"What's the charge against us?" Lynch questioned, with studied
indifference, seating himself on the bed. It was not the first time he
had ever been arrested. He frequently boasted that no jail would ever
claim him.

"You're wanted on two counts," the policeman informed. "For theft of a
pearl necklace belonging to Mrs. Dillon, and for stealing a valuable
painting from the Gage Galleries."

"Anything else?" Cron inquired sarcastically.

"Yes, several other things, but I'll let the judge tell you about it."

"It takes evidence to