e floor, and his great pajamaed body foolishly
alert.

"Who in----" he began. But in a moment Charlie's voice cut him short.

"You there? Thank God! Where's the lamp? Quick, light it."

To Bill's credit it must be admitted he offered no further attempt at
a blasphemous protest, but leaned over toward the Windsor chair on
which the lamp stood, and fumbled for the matches.

The next moment he had struck a light, and the lamp was lit. He stood
up and looked across the room. Charlie's slight figure was just inside
the doorway. His face was ghastly in the yellow lamplight. His clothes
were in a filthy condition, and, altogether, in Bill's own words, he
looked like a priceless antique of some forgotten race.

However, the hunted look in the man's eyes smote his brother's
generous heart, and a swift, anxious inquiry sprang to his lips.

"What's--what's up, Charlie?" he cried, gathering his clothes
together, and beginning to dress himself.

Charlie's eyes glowed with a reflection of the lamplight.

"The game's up, Bill," he cried hoarsely. "My God, it's been given
away. Pete Clancy, the feller you hammered, has turned informer. I--I
shot him dead. Say, the gang's out to-night. They're coming in with a
cargo of liquor. Fyles is wise to their play, and knows just how it's
coming in. They'll be trapped to a man."

"You--shot Pete--dead?"

In the overwhelming rush of his brother's information, the death of
the informer at his, Charlie's, hands seemed alone to penetrate
Bill's, as yet, none too alert faculties.

"Yes, yes," cried the other impatiently. "I'd have shot him, or--or
anybody else for such treachery, but--but--it's the other that
matters. I've got to get out and stop that cargo. It's midnight now,
and--God! If the police get----"

Bill's brain was working more rapidly, and so were his hands. He was
almost dressed now.

"But you, Charlie," he cried, all his concern for his brother
uppermost. "They'll get you. And--and they'll hang you for killing
Pete--sure."

Suddenly a peal of hysterical laughter, which ended in a furious
curse, rang through the room.

"God Almighty!" Charlie cried fiercely, "don't stand there yapping
about me. Hang me? What in hell do I care what they do to me? I
haven't come here about myself. Nothing that concerns me matters.
Here, it's midnight. I've time to reach 'em and give 'em the word.
See, that's why I'm here. I don't know what's happened by now, or what
may happen. You offe