of the
disturbance--the riot call was out!

Again Jimmie Dale smiled wearily, passing his hand across his eyes.

"I guess," said Jimmie Dale, "I'm pretty near all in. And I guess it's
time that Larry the Bat went--home."

And a little later a figure turned from the Bowery and shambled down
the cross street, a disreputable figure, with hands plunged deep in his
pockets--and a shadow across the roadway suddenly shifted its position
as the shambling figure slouched into the black alleyway and entered the
tenement's side door.

And Larry the Bat smiled softly to himself--Kline's men were still on
guard!

CHAPTER VI

DEVIL'S WORK

A white-gloved arm, a voice, and a silvery laugh! Just that--no more!
Jimmie Dale, in his favourite seat, an aisle seat some seven or eight
rows back from the orchestra, stared at the stage, to all outward
appearances absorbed in the last act of the play; inwardly, quite
oblivious to the fact that even a play was going on.

A white-gloved arm, a voice, and a silvery laugh! The words had formed
themselves into a sort of singsong refrain that, for the last few days,
had been running through his head. A strange enough guiding star to
mould and dictate every action in his life! And that was all he had ever
seen of her, all that he had ever heard of her--except those letters,
of course, each of which had outlined the details of some affair for the
Gray Seal to execute.

Indeed, it seemed a great length of time now since he had heard from her
even in that way, though it was not so many days ago, after all. Perhaps
it was the calm, as it were, that, by contrast, had given place to the
strenuous months and weeks just past. The storm raised by the newspapers
at the theft of Old Luddy's diamonds had subsided into sporadic
diatribes aimed at the police; Kline, of the secret service, had finally
admitted defeat, and a shadow no longer skulked day and night at
the entrance to the Sanctuary--and Larry the Bat bore the government
indorsement, so to speak, of being no more suspicious a character than
that of a disreputable, but harmless, dope fiend of the underworld.

Larry the Bat! The Gray Seal! Jimmie Dale the millionaire! What if it
were ever known that that strange three were one! What if--Jimmie Dale
smiled whimsically. A burst of applause echoed through the house, the
orchestra was playing, the lights were on, seats banged, there was the
bustle of the rising audience, the play was at an