efore it--to
kill a man!

He walked on and on, until at last, conscious of a sense of fatigue, he
stopped. He must have come a long way, been walking a long time. Where
was he? He looked about him for a moment in a dazed way--and suddenly,
with a low cry, shrank back. As though he had been drawn to it by
some ghastly magnet, he found himself standing in front of the LaSalle
mansion, on Fifth Avenue. No, no; it was not for that he had come--to
kill a man! It was only--only to get that money. Yes--he remembered
now--that money from the safe, before the Magpie got it. The Magpie was
to be there at three o'clock--and the Tocsin was to be there, too. The
Tocsin! That package! He had failed! It had been her one hope, and--and
it was gone. What could he say to her? How could he tell her the
miserable truth? But--but he had not come there in the dead of night to
kill a man, these other things were what had--

"Jimmie!" It was a quick-breathed whisper. A hand was on his arm.

He turned, startled. It was the Tocsin--Silver Mag.

"Jimmie!" in alarm. "Why are you standing here like this? You may be
SEEN!"

Seen! Suppose he WERE seen? He shuddered a little.

"Yes; that's so!" he said hoarsely. He glanced numbly up and down the
wide, deserted, but well-lighted, avenue. It was no place, that most
aristocratic section of the city, for such as Silver Mag and Larry
the Bat to be seen at that hour of night, or, rather, morning. And if
anything HAPPENED inside that house! "I--I didn't think of that," he
said mechanically.

"Come across the street--under the stoop of that house there." She had
his arm, and was half dragging him as she spoke, the alarm in her voice
intensified. And then, a moment later, safe from observation: "Jimmie,
Jimmie, what is the matter? What has happened? What makes you act so
strangely?"

"Nothing," he said. "I--"

"TELL me!" she insisted wildly.

And then, with a violent effort, Jimmie Dale forced his mind back to the
immediate present. He was only inspiring her with terror--and there was
the Magpie--and that money in the safe!

"Where is the Magpie?" he asked, with quick apprehension. "Am I late? Is
he in there already?"

"No," she said. "He hasn't come yet."

"What time is it?" he demanded anxiously.

"About half-past two," she replied. "But, Jimmie--"

"Wait!" he broke in. "Where is he now? You were both together! And
you were both to be here at three. What are you doing here alone at
half-