, laid
these on the bed, and began to undress. He was working rapidly now. Tiny
pieces of wax were removed from his nostrils, from under his lips, from
behind his ears; water from a cracked pitcher poured into a battered tin
basin, and mixed with a few drops of some liquid from a bottle which he
procured from its hiding place under the flooring, banished the make-up
stain from his face, his neck, his wrists, and hands as if by magic.
It was a strange metamorphosis that had taken place--the coarse,
brutal-featured, blear-eyed, leering countenance of Larry the Bat was
gone, and in its place, clean-cut, square-jawed, clear-eyed, was the
face of Jimmie Dale. And where before had slouched a slope-shouldered,
misshapen, flabby creature, a broad-shouldered form well over six feet
in height now stood erect, and under the clean white skin the muscles
of an athlete, like knobs of steel played back and forth with every
movement of his body.

In the streaked and broken mirror Jimmie Dale surveyed himself
critically, methodically, and, with a nod of satisfaction, hastily
donned the fashionably cut suit of tweeds upon the bed. He rummaged then
through the ragged garments he had just discarded, transferred to
his pockets a roll of bills and his automatic, and paused hesitantly,
staring at the thin metal case, like a cigarette case, that he held in
the palm of his hand. He shrugged his shoulders a little whimsically; it
seemed strange indeed that he was through with that! He snapped it
open. Within, between sheets of oil paper, lay the scores of little
diamond-shaped, gray-coloured, adhesive paper seals--the insignia of the
Gray Seal. Yes, it seemed strange that he was never to use another! He
closed the case, gathered up the clothes of Larry the Bat, tucked
the case in among them, and shoved the bundle into the hole under the
flooring. All these things would have to be destroyed, but there was not
time to-night; to-morrow, or the next day, would do for that. What would
it be like to live a normal life again, without the menace of danger
lurking on every hand, without that grim slogan of the underworld,
"Death to the Gray Seal!" or that savage fiat of the police, "The Gray
Seal, dead or alive--but the Gray Seal!" forever ringing in his ears?
What would it be like, this new life--with her?

The thought was thrilling him again, bringing again that eager, exultant
uplift. In an hour, ONE hour, and the barriers of years would be swept
aw