ist moaned, opened his eyes, stared in a dazed way at the three
faces that leered into his, then dawning intelligence came, and his
face, that had been white before, took on a pasty, grayish pallor.

"You--the three of you!" he mumbled. "What's this mean?"

And then Clarie Deane laughed in a low, brutal way.

"Wot d'ye think it means? We want that paper, an' we want it damn
quick--see! D'ye think we was goin' ter stand fer havin' a trip ter Sing
Sing an' the wire chair danglin' over our heads!"

Stangeist closed his eyes. When he opened them again, something of the
old-time craftiness was in his face.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" he inquired, almost sharply.
"You know what will happen to you, if anything happens to me."

"Don't youse kid yerself!" retorted Clarie Deane. "D'ye think we're
fools? This ain't like it was yesterday--see! We GETS the paper this
time--so there won't nothin' happen to us. You come across with it
blasted quick now, or The Mope'll give you another on the bean that'll
put you to sleep fer keeps!"

The blood was running down Stangeist's face. He wiped it away from his
eyes.

"It's not here," he said innocently. "It's in my box in the
safety-deposit vaults."

"Aw," blurted out Australian Ike, pushing suddenly forward, "youse can't
work dat crawl on--"

"Cut it out, Ike!" snapped Clarie Dane. "I'm runnin' this! So it's in
the vaults, eh?" He shoved his face toward Stangeist's.

"Yes," said Stangeist easily. "You see--I was looking for something like
this."

Clarie Deane's fist clenched.

"You lie!" he choked. "The Mope, here, was the last of us you showed
the paper to yesterday afternoon, an' the vaults was closed then--an' you
ain't been there to-day, 'cause you've been watched. That's why we fixed
it fer to-night after the divvy that you've just tried ter do us on
again, 'cause we knew you had it here."

"I tell you, it's not here," said Stangeist evenly.

"You lie!" said Clarie Deane again. "It's in that safe. The Mope heard
you tell the girl in yer office that if anything happened to you she was
ter wise up the district attorney that there was a paper in your safe
at home fer him that was important. Now then, you beat it over ter that
safe, an' open it up--we'll give you a minute ter do it in."

"The paper's not there, I tell you," said Stangeist once more.

"That's all right," submitted Clarle Deane grimly. "There's a quarter of
that minute gone."

"I won't!