et face relaxed as he read the underground Morse, and he
replaced his revolver slowly in his pocket.

"The Magpie!" said Jimmie Dale, in an undertone. "What's he want?"

"I don't know," she answered, in a whisper. "He never came here before.
There's a back way out, Jimmie, if you--"

"No," he said quickly. "We've enemies enough, with out making one of
the Magpie. He knows some one is here with you--our shadows were on the
blind. Don't queer yourself. Let him in. I'll light the lamp."

He struck a match, as she ran from the room, and, lifting the hot lamp
chimney with the edge of his ragged coat, lighted the lamp. He turned
the wick down a little, shading and dimming the room--and then, as he
flirted a bead of moisture from his forehead, whimsically stretched out
his hand to watch it in the lamplight.

"That's bad, Jimmie," he muttered gravely to himself, as he noted an
almost imperceptible tremour. "Got a start, didn't you! Under a bit of a
strain, eh? Well"--grimly--"never mind! It looks as though the luck had
turned Makoff and Spider Jack!"

His hand reached up to his hat, jerked the brim at a rakish angle over
his eyes--and he sprawled himself out on a chair. He heard the Tocsin's
voice at the front door, and a man's voice, low and guarded, answer her.
Then the door closed, and their steps approached the room. It was rather
curious, that--a visit from the Magpie! What could the Magpie want? What
could there be in common between the Magpie and Silver Mag? The Magpie,
alias Slimmy Joe, was counted the cleverest safe worker in the United
States, barring only and always one--a smile flickered across the lips
of Larry the Bat--one whose pre-eminence the Magpie, much to his own
chagrin, admitted himself--the Gray Seal!

He looked up, twisting the stub of a cigarette between his grimy fingers
and fumbling for a match, as the Tocsin and, behind her, the Magpie,
short, slim, and wiry, shrewd-faced, with sharp, quick-glancing little
black eyes, entered the room.

"'Ello, Larry!" grinned the Magpie. "Got yer breath back yet? I felt it
through de windowpane when youse let go at de lamp!"

"'Ello, Slimmy!" returned Jimmie Dale ungraciously, speaking through the
corner of his mouth. "Ferget it!"

"Sure!" said the Magpie unconcernedly. He stared about him, and finally,
drawing a chair up to the table, sat down, motioned the Tocsin to do the
same, and leaned forward amiably. "I didn't mean to throw no scare into
youse," h