gutter rat who, a few
hours before, had brought the two thugs back to Balcom and Old Meg was
coiled up in a corner, asleep.

With light footsteps that did not awaken the sleeping boy, a strange
little figure now came scurrying down the brick stairs. The figure
hesitated a moment, then entered the foul den.

In tatters, like the sleeping street gamin, this other boy still had
something winsome, something elusively handsome, about him, a certain
refinement of features. However, a black patch over one eye showed that
this gamin was manly enough, evidently, when it came to fighting. He
stirred the sleeping boy with his foot, and the boy, cursing volubly and
beyond his years, roused himself.

They talked excitedly in whispers and the boy who had just entered gave
the street arab some money. Then together they tiptoed into the other
room and down a flight of rickety steps into the cellar. This cellar
connected with another cellar of large size that was used as a
storehouse.

The boys barely spoke and, when it was necessary, only in whispers. They
came to a pile of cotton bales, found a convenient space between the
bales, crawled in, and lay still.

Night was coming fast as the hag, trailed by Locke, left Brent Rock. She
walked fast for so old a woman, but, finally, coming to a street-car
line, she took the first car that came along. Locke had had the
foresight to have himself followed by one of the numerous Brent cars and
so was able to keep the street-car in sight until the old woman alighted
in her squalid quarter of town. Locke got out of his machine and
followed her on foot, keeping close to the walls of the buildings to
avoid having her see him.

Old Meg turned the corner that ran alongside her dwelling, and there,
for the first time, gave an indication that she was aware that she was
being followed. She chuckled to herself, gave a few stumbling capers
which might have been an imitation of a dance step, then waved her hand.
Was it a signal?

Locke was never to reach the alley. Old Meg had whipped around the
corner so quickly that for a moment he was puzzled as to just where she
had disappeared. He stopped with his back half turned to a flight of
stairs leading down to the cellar entrance of a big warehouse. Suddenly
he was sent stumbling forward to his knees, half dazed by a treacherous
blow dealt from behind.

He was up again in an instant and was defending himself from the attack
of half a dozen thugs. He pu