al life in Paris and
London, Vienna and Budapest. I shall not break any confidence if I tell
you that my friend is a writer, and material such as this is useful."

The newcomer smiled.

"Well," he exclaimed, "in a way, it's fortunate for you that I happened
along! You come right with me and I'll show you something that very few
other people in this city know of. Guess you'd better pay this fellow
off," he added, indicating the ex-detective. "He's no more use to you."

Sogrange and Peter exchanged questioning glances.

"It is very kind of you, sir," Peter decided, "but for my part I have
had enough for one evening."

"Just as you like, of course," the other remarked, with studied
unconcern.

"What sort of place would it be?" Sogrange asked.

The newcomer drew them on one side, although, as a matter of fact, every
one else had already melted away.

"Have you ever heard of the Secret Societies of New York?" he inquired.
"Well, I guess you haven't, any way--not to know anything about them.
Well, then, listen. There's a Society meets within a few steps of here,
which has more to do with regulating the criminal classes of the city
than any police establishment. There'll be a man there within an hour or
so, who, to my knowledge, has committed seven murders. The police can't
get him. They never will. He's under our protection."

"May we visit such a place as you describe without danger?" Peter asked,
calmly.

"No!" the man answered. "There's danger in going anywhere, it seems to
me, if it's worth while. So long as you keep a still tongue in your head
and don't look about you too much, there's nothing will happen to you.
If you get gassing a lot, you might tumble in for almost anything. Don't
come unless you like. It's a chance for your friend, as he's a writer,
but you'd best keep out of it if you're in any way nervous."

"You said it was quite close?" Sogrange inquired.

"Within a yard or two," the man replied. "It's right this way."

They left the hall with their new escort. When they looked for their
motor car, they found it had gone.

"It don't do to keep them things waiting about round here," their new
friend remarked, carelessly. "I guess I'll send you back to your hotel
all right. Step this way."

"By the bye, what street is this we are in?" Peter asked.

"100th Street," the man answered.

Peter shook his head.

"I'm a little superstitious about that number," he declared. "Is that an
elevated railw