reporters had minded their
own business."

"That's all right, Bobbie," said Doctor MacFarland, who had dropped in
on his routine call, "you'd better mind your own p's and q's, for you
will be a marked man in this neighborhood. It's none too savory at
best. You know how these gunmen hate any policeman, and now they've
got your photograph and your number they won't lose a minute to use
that knowledge. Keep your eyes on all points of the compass when you
go out to-night."

"I'll try not to go napping, Doc," answered Burke gratefully. "You're
a good friend of mine, and I appreciate your advice. But I don't
expect any more trouble than usual."

After his patrol duty Burke was scheduled for a period on fixed post.
It was the same location as that on which he had made the acquaintance
of Jimmie the Monk and Dutch Annie several months before. As a
coincidence, it began to storm, just as it had on that memorable
evening, except that instead of the blighting snow blizzards, furious
sheets of rain swept the dirty streets, and sent pedestrians under the
dripping shelter of vestibules and awnings.

Burke, without the protection of a raincoat, walked back and forth in
the small compass of space allowed the peg-post watcher, beating his
arms together to warm himself against the sickening chill of his
dripping clothes.

As he waited he saw a man come out of the corner saloon.

It was no other than Shultberger, the proprietor of the cafe and its
cabaret annex. The man wore a raincoat, and a hat pulled down over his
eyes. He came to the middle of the crossing and closely scrutinized
the young policeman.

"Is dot you, Burke?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes, what do you want of me?"

"Veil, I joost vanted to know dat a good man vos on post to-night, for
I expect troubles mit dese gun-men. Dey don't like me, und I t'ought
I'd find out who vos here."

This struck 4434 as curious. He knew that Shultberger was the guardian
angel of the neighborhood toughs in time of storm and trouble. Yet he
was anxious to do his duty.

"What's the trouble? Are they starting anything?"

The saloon man shook his head as he started back to his cafe.

"Oh, no. But ve all know vot a fighter you vos to-day. De papers is
full mit it. Dey've got purty picture of you, too. I joost vos
skeered dot dey might pick on me because I vos always running a orderly
place, und because I'm de frend of de police. I'll call you if I need
you."

He dis