t unformulated threat. The warning got as far as her tongue,
and there halted, struggling.

Her strange, fixed look startled Larry. "Why, what's the matter,
Maggie?" he exclaimed.

But her pride, her settled determination to unbend to him in no way and
to have no dealings with him, were stronger than her impulse; and the
struggling warning remained unuttered.

"Nothing's the matter," she said, and brushed past him and hurried up
the stairway.

At times during the day, while tutoring with Mr. Bronson, Larry thought
of Maggie's strange look. And his mind was upon it late in the afternoon
when he entered the little street. But as he neared his grandmother's
house all such thought was banished by Detective Gavegan of the Central
Office stepping from the pawnshop and blocking the door with his big
figure. There was grim, triumphant purpose on the hard features of
Gavegan, conceited by nature and trained to harsh dominance by long rule
as a petty autocrat.

"Hello, Gavegan," Larry greeted him pleasantly. "Gee, but you look
tickled! Did the Duchess give you a bigger loan than you expected on the
Carnegie medal you just hocked?"

"You'll soon be cuttin' out your line of comedy." Gavegan slipped his
left arm through Larry's right. "You're comin' along with me, and you'd
better come quiet."

Larry stiffened. "Come where?"

"Headquarters."

"I haven't done a thing, Gavegan, and you know it! What do you want me
for?"

"Me and the Chief had a little talk about you," leered Gavegan. "And now
the Chief wants to have a little personal talk with you. He asked me to
round you up and bring you in."

"I've done nothing, and I'll not go!" Larry cried hotly.

"Oh, yes, you will!" Gavegan withdrew his right hand from his coat
pocket where it had been resting in readiness. In the hand, its thong
about his wrist, was a short leather-covered object filled with lead.
"I've got my orders, and you'll come peaceably, or--But I'd just as soon
you'd resist, for I owe you something for the punch you slipped over on
me the other night."

Larry, taut with the desire to strike, gazed for a moment into the
glowering face of the detective. Gavegan, gripping his right arm, with
that bone-crushing slug-shot itching for instant use, was apparently
master in the present circumstances. But before Larry's quick mind had
decided upon a course, the door of the pawnshop opened and closed, and a
voice said sharply:

"Nothing doing on that rough st