firing
point-blank. Burke threw his stick at the man, but it went wild.

His own revolver was out now, and he sent a bullet into the fellow's
shoulder.

Shepard's left arm dropped limply. He dashed toward the door and
forced his way past, firing wildly at such close range that it almost
burst the gallant policeman's ear drums.

Up the ladder he scurried like a wild animal, firing as he climbed.

Burke was right behind him.

Shepard ran for the fire-escape. Burke was after him. Each man was
wasting bullets. But as Shepard reached the edge of the roof Burke
took the most deliberate aim of his life, and sent a bullet into the
villain's breast.

Shepard gasped, his hands went up, and he toppled over the cornice to
the back yard below.

He died as he had lived, with a curse on his lip, murder in his heart,
and battling like a beast!

CHAPTER XV

THE FINISH

Burke rushed down the dilapidated steps once more to the room where
Lorna had undergone her bitter punishment. Already three bluecoats had
entered in time to capture the frantic old woman, while they worked to
bring the miserable girl back to consciousness.

"She's coming around all right, Burke," said the sergeant. "Help me
carry her downstairs."

"I'll do that myself," quoth Bobbie, feeling that the privilege of
restoring her to Mary had been rightfully earned. He picked her up and
tenderly lifted her from the couch where she had been placed by the
sergeant. Down the stairs they went with their prisoner, while
Patrolman White descended from the roof with his captive, whose hands
had been shackled behind his back.

The house had the appearance of a cheap lodging place, and the dirty
carpet of the hall showed hard usage. As they reached the lower floor
Bobbie noticed Captain Sawyer rummaging through an imitation mahogany
desk in the converted parlor, a room furnished much after the fashion
of the bedroom of Madame Blanche in the house uptown.

"What sort of place is it? A headquarters for the gang?" asked Bobbie,
as he hesitated with Lorna in his arms.

"No, just the same kind of joint we've raided so many times, and we've
got hundreds more to raid," answered Sawyer. "I've found the receipts
for the rent here, and they've been paying about five times what it is
worth. The man who owns this house is your friend Trubus. This links
him up once more. There's a lot of information in this desk. But
hurry with the girl, Bobbie, for her