s the idea you desire to convey," observed the
other evenly. "You were quite the victim of circumstances, as it were!"

Jimmie Dale's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"It would appear to be fairly obvious, I should say."

"Very clever!" commented the man. "But now suppose we remove the buttons
from the foils!" His voice rasped suddenly. "You are quite as well aware
as I am that what has happened to-night was not an accident. Nor--in
case the possibility may have occurred to you--are the police any the
wiser, save for the existence of two wrecked cars on Lower Broadway, and
another which escaped, and for which doubtless they are still searching
assiduously. The ownership of the taxicab you so inadvertently entered
they will have no difficulty in establishing--you, perhaps, however,
are in a better position than I am to appreciate the fact that the
establishment of its ownership will lead them nowhere. As I understand
it, the man who drove you to-night obtained the loan of the cab from one
of the company's chauffeur's in return for a hundred-dollar bill. Am I
right?"

"In view of what has happened," admitted Jimmie Dale simply, "I should
not be surprised."

There was a sort of sardonic admiration in the other's laugh.

"As for the other car," he went on, "I can assure you that its ownership
will never be known. When the nearest patrolman rushed up, there were
no survivors of the disaster, save those in the third car which he was
powerless to stop--which accounts for your presence here. You will admit
that I have been quite frank."

"Oh, quite!" said Jimmie Dale, a little wearily. "But would you mind
telling me what all this is leading to?"

The man had been leaning forward in his chair, one hand, palm downward,
resting lightly on the desk. He shifted his hand now suddenly to the arm
of his chair.

"THIS!" he said, and on the desk where his hand had been lay the
Tocsin's gold signet ring.

Jimmie Dale's face expressed mild curiosity. He could feel the other's
eyes boring into him.

"We were speaking of ownership," said the man, in a low, menacing
tone. "I want to know where the woman who owns this ring can be found
to-night."

There was no play, no trifling here; the man was in deadly earnest. But
it seemed to Jimmie Dale, even with the sense of peril more imminent
with every instant, that he could have laughed outright in savage
mockery at the irony of the question. Where was she? Even WHO was she?
And this was