apartments utilized as dressing-rooms for the men
and women. The light was burning brightly in a chandelier overhead and
Jack, stepping to a button in the wall, pressed it, shrouding that part
of the hall in gloom.

Then he tested the knob and pushed slightly on the door. To his
surprise it yielded. A thin piece of wire brushed his fingers and
following it he found it led from the keyhole and outside the jamb of
the door, which had been cut slightly. Evidently some one was ahead of
him! But he did not hesitate. Softly opening the door he stepped into
the room and closed the door behind him. Then for a moment he stood
still. He felt in his pocket for his match box and had just struck a
light when suddenly an arm flew around his neck from behind, the crook
of the elbow pressing deeply into his throat.

Without a sound, Jack bent forward, pulling his assailant with him,
despite his efforts to get Jack's head back between his shoulders. For
a full minute they were poised thus. Armitage knew better than to
crack his neck in frantic efforts to break the strong arm grip. There
were other ways. He was very cool and he had confidence in that neck
of his, which set on his shoulders like the base of a marble column.
The hand of the stranger was pawing for a grip on his right wrist, but
Jack, who knew the move and had no desire to have his elbow shattered,
kept it out of the way. And all the time he kept up a slight strain
upon the arm around his neck, into which, by the way, his chin was
slightly buried, breaking in some degree the choking power of the hold.

For two minutes they stood thus, slightly swaying, and then
instinctively Jack, gagging a little now, felt the minutest relaxation
of the arm. Quick as thought he changed the position of his right leg,
bringing into play the leverage of his hip. He twisted suddenly
sideways, his neck slipping around in the encircling arm. His hand
closed upon the back of a thick, perspiring neck. The next instant a
figure catapulted over his back, bringing up with a bone-racking crash
against a piece of furniture.

Armitage, whose eyes were now accustomed to the dark room, ran to an
electric globe at the side of a writing desk and turned on the light.
By this time his assailant was rising, tottering but full of fight, a
desire which Jack, now all for carnage, was quite ready to satisfy. As
he started for the man something in the fellow's face made him pause.
He uttered a