helped him on with his coat. The door had closed
softly. The outer air gripped with cold that crackled. A soft snow was
falling upon the city. It blurred the view of the Avenue, as seen to
north and south. It wound the opposite buildings with a shroud of
winter.

The detective squared his shoulders, thrust his hands in his pockets
for warmth, and hurried out between the iron-grilled gates, which stood
slightly ajar. He hesitated a moment on the sidewalk. Again he glanced
up and down the Avenue. The soft purring of a motor sounded. A taxi
churned through the snow. It came to a slow stop at the opposite curb.
The glow from an overhead arc showed that this taxi was crammed black
with men.

"That's Delaney and his squad," said the detective turning up his
collar. "He's late."

Drew crossed the Avenue on a long diagonal. He eyed the alert
chauffeur. He rounded the taxi and jerked open its door. The orders he
whispered to the squad of operatives were terse and to the point.

"Keep Stockbridge's block covered," he said. "Watch all four corners.
Two of you get into the alley, back of the house, and climb the fence.
Keep your eyes on the junction-box and the telephone wires. Don't let
anybody touch them. All out, now. It's a big job with double-pay, men!"

The cramped operatives climbed out and stood on the sidewalk. They
glanced from Drew to the towering spires of the Stockbridge mansion.
Their eyes grew hard with calculation.

"She's big," repeated Drew. "You know who lives there? He's been
threatened twice. Somebody gave him twelve hours to live. Two of the
twelve are gone. It's up to us to see that nothing happens in the next
ten."

Delaney touched his hat. "All right, Chief," he said. "We'll see. I'll
answer for the boys I brought. I'll get rid of this taxi." The
operative turned toward the driver.

"Keep it around the corner on the side street," Drew ordered. "Have him
turn and head this way. We can't tell what minute we will need him."

Delaney gave the order. He paired off the operatives and sent them
hurrying through the snow. Drew noticed that he had brought six men for
the assignment.

"Good," he said as the last operative disappeared. "Six is better than
five. This thing is widening out. I wouldn't wonder if we needed more,
before the night passes."

"What's coming off?" asked Delaney with an Irish grin. "Another stock
scandal like the Flying Boat one?"

"An echo of it--perhaps," said Drew. "It's dog