rummies,--I want to give them the once over again.
There's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, and I'm no abolitionist!
Quick now. Get a wiggle on."

The hand was withdrawn from the little opening, as the lieutenant
advanced into the front compartment of the cellar. He beckoned meaningly
to the others to follow him. They obeyed with a slinking walk, which
showed that they were obsessed by some great dread, in that unseen
presence, in the heart of the spider-web!

"Which one of you is the stool pigeon," came the harsh query.

"W'y, gov'nor, none of us. You'se knows us," whined one of the men.

"Yes, and I know enough to send you all to Atlanta or Sing Sing or
Danamora, for the rest of your rotten lives, if I want to."

The rascals stared vainly into the black vacuum of the screen, blinking
in the glaring lights, cowering instinctively before the unseen but
certain malignancy of the power behind that mysterious wall.

"I brought you here to New York," continued the master, "you are making
more money with less work and risk than ever before. But you're playing
false with me, and I know some one is slipping information where it
oughtn't to go. I'm going to skin alive the one who I catch. There's one
eye that never sleeps, don't forget that."

"Gee, boss, wot do we know to slip?" advanced the most forward of them.
"We follers orders, and gets our kale and dat's all. We ain't never
even seen ya, and don't know even wot de whole game is. Don't queer us,
gov'nor!"

"Go out front again, and shut off this blab. I warn you that's all-Now,
Phil, give this to the men. Tell them to keep off the cocaine--they're
getting to be a lot of bone heads lately. Too much dope will spoil the
best crook in the world."

The white hand passed out a roll of crisp, new currency to the
lieutenant of the gang, who gingerly reached for it, as though he
expected the tapering fingers to claw him.

"Fifty dollars to each man. No holding out. Remember, every one of them
is spying on the other to me. I'm not a Rip Van Winkle. Now, I want
you to keep this fellow Montague Shirley covered but don't put him away
until I give you the word. Send the bunch upstairs, for I don't want to
be disturbed the next two hours. And just keep off the coke yourself.
You're scratching your face a good deal these days--I know the signs."

Phil expostulated nervously. "Oh, gov'nor, I ain't no fiend--just once
and a while I gets a little rummy, and brightens up. It ta