"Not without you, Jimmie."

It brought a fierce, wild throb of joy upon him--and then a cold,
sickening fear.

"Listen!" he cried out desperately. "You must go now! You cannot take
any chances now, Marie. Everything is right for you. That man who posed
as your uncle is dead--the leader of the Crime Club is dead. Don't you
understand what that means! You have only to be Marie LaSalle again and
claim your own. I cannot tell you all now--there's no time. That house
was the Crime Club itself. The police will get them all. Don't you see!
Don't you see! Everything is clear for you now--and now go! Go--you must
go!"

She was staring at him, a strange wonder in her face.

"Clear! All clear--for me! I--I can go back to--to my own life again!"
It was as though she were whispering some amazing thing of unbelievable
joy to herself.

"YES!" he cried out again. "Yes! But go--go, Marie!"

But now, for answer, suddenly she reached out and took the key from the
door and put it in the pocket of her dress.

"We will go together, Jimmie--or not at all," she said simply. "We are
wasting precious moments. Hurry and dress!"

He hesitated miserably. What could he do--if she WOULD not go! And it
was true--the moments were flying. Better, rather than futile argument,
to use them as she said. There was still a chance! Why not! Five
minutes! He could do better than that! He MUST do better than that!

Without a word, he ran back across the room. In frantic haste, from
face, hands, wrists, and neck came the stain. There was still time. She
was standing there by the door, listening. She, the Tocsin, she whom
he loved, she who, all through the years that had gone, had been so
strangely elusive and yet so intimately a part of his life, SHE was
standing there now, here with him--in peril with every second that
passed!

He had only to slip on his coat and vest now--and make a bundle of
Larry the Bat's things on the floor, so that he could carry them away
to destroy them. He stooped to gather up the clothes--and straightened
suddenly--and jumped toward the door again.

"They are coming, Jimmie!" she called, in a low voice. But he had
already heard them--the stairs were creaking loudly under the tread of
many feet. He pushed the Tocsin hurriedly back against the wall at the
side of the door.

"Stand there!" he said, under his breath. "Out of the line of fire!
Don't move!"

There was a rush against the door--and then a voice growled:

"