d in sharp furrows. There was evidently
something afoot to-night of which the Tocsin had NOT sounded the alarm.
And then the frown relaxed, and he smiled a little. Miraculous as was
the means through which she obtained the knowledge that was the basis of
their strange partnership, it was no more miraculous than her unerring
accuracy in the minutest details. The Tocsin had never failed him yet.
It was possible that something was afoot around him, quite probable,
indeed, since he was in the most vicious part of the city, in the heart
of gangland; but whatever it might be, it was certainly extraneous to
his mission or she would have mentioned it.

The lane was empty now, he was quite sure of that--and there was
no further sound from the window opposite. He started forward once
more--only to halt again for the second time as abruptly as before,
squeezing if possible even more closely against the wall. Some one had
turned into the lane from the sidewalk, and, walking hurriedly, choosing
with evident precaution the exact centre of the alleyway, came toward
him.

The man passed, his hurried stride a half run; and, a few feet beyond,
halted at old Isaac's side door. From somewhere inside the old building
Jimmie Dale's ears caught the faint ringing of an electric bell; a
long ring, followed in quick succession by three short ones--then the
repeated clicking of a latch, as though pulled by a cord from above, and
the man passed in through the door, closing it behind him.

Jimmie Dale nodded to himself in the darkness. It was a spring lock; the
signal was one long ring and three short ones--the Tocsin had not missed
even those small details. Also, Burton was late for his appointment, for
that must have been Burton--business such as old Isaac had in hand
that night would have permitted the entrance of no other visitor but K.
Wilmington Maddon's private secretary.

He moved down the lane to the door, and tried it softly. It was locked,
of course. The slim, tapering, sensitive fingers, whose tips were eyes
and ears to Jimmie Dale, felt over the lock--and a slender little steel
instrument slipped into the keyhole. A moment more and the catch was
released, and the door, under his hand, began to open. With it ajar,
he paused, his eyes searching intently up and down the lane. There was
nothing, no sign of any one, no moving shadows now. His gaze shifted to
the window opposite. Directly facing it now, with the dull reflection
upon it f