ment of an old house whose frightened tenants feared
that they were to be arrested and lynched on the spot, to judge from
their terror.

"Keep quiet," said Burke, "and don't look out of the windows, or we
will arrest you."

Burke and his men peered at the building which was the object of their
attack. The fire escape came only down to the second story.

"Well, you fellows will have to give me a boost, and I'll jump for the
lower rungs. Then toss up one more man and I'll catch his hand. We
can go up together. You watch the doors."

At exactly four thirty they dashed across the yard, scrambled over the
fence, and like Zouaves in an exhibition drill, tossed Burke up to the
lowest iron bar of the fire escape. He failed the first time. He
tumbled back upon them. The second time was successful. Patrolman
White was given a lift and Burke helped to pull him upon the
fire-escape.

"Up, now, White! We will be behind the other fellows in the front!"

They lost not a second. It was an ape-like climb, but the two trained
athletes made it in surprising time.

As they reached the top of the building a man scrambled out of the trap
which led from the skylight.

"Grab him," yelled Burke.

White did so. This was prisoner number one.

Down the ladder, through the opening Burke went and found himself in a
dingy garret, at the top of a rickety stair-case. He heard screams.
He descended the steps half a floor and peering from the angle, through
the transom of a room which led from the hall, he saw a fat old woman
standing with her hands on her hips, laughing merrily, while Shepard
was swinging a whip upon the shoulders of a screaming girl. Her
clothes were half torn from her back, and the whip left a red welt each
time it struck.

Downstairs Burke heard the crashing of breaking doors. The raid was
progressing rapidly. Burke dashed down to the floor level and flung
himself upon the locked door. The first lunge cracked the lock. The
second swung the door back on its hinges.

He half fell into the room.

As he did so Lorna Barton saw him and in a flash of recognition,
screamed: "Oh, save me, Mr. Burke!"

She staggered forward, and Shepard missed his aim, striking the fat
woman who squealed with pain.

"I've got _you_ now!" cried Burke, rushing for the ruffian with his
stick.

"No, you haven't!" hissed Shepard, a fighting animal to the last. He
had whipped out a magazine gun from his coat pocket, and began