feated his wrathful purpose, and when
he reached the shabby room which he called home his intended victim
had escaped.

Marlowe did not at once discover the boy's flight. He unlocked the
door, but it was dark within, for the window looked out upon an
inclosed court, and permitted only a scanty light to enter. Before
striking a light he locked the door again and put the key in his
pocket. This was to prevent the boy's escape on the one hand, and any
outside interference on the other. Then he drew a match from his
pocket and lighted a fragment of candle upon the table. This done he
turned his eyes toward the bed with stern exultation. But this was
quickly turned into angry surprise.

"The boy's gone!" he exclaimed, with an oath. "How could he have got
out, with the door locked?"

The open window and the rope hanging from it revealed the method of
escape.

Marlowe strode to the window with a feeling of keen disappointment.
Was he to be robbed of his revenge, after all? He had depended upon
this with certainty, and meant to have it, though he should be
arrested the next minute, and he knew that, though he had escaped from
the house of his meditated crime, he was still in great peril.
Doubtless Julius had given full information to the police of his name
and residence, and even now they might be in pursuit of him. He ground
his teeth when he thought of this, and clinched his fist in the
impotent desire for vengeance.

"If I had him here," he muttered, "I'd crush him as I would a spider,"
and he stamped angrily upon the floor.

But where could he have got the rope? that was the next question. He
knew that there was none in the room, and how one could have been
smuggled in with the door locked was something that puzzled him.
Julius himself could not very well have brought one in, as on account
of its bulk it would have attracted the attention either of Jack
Morgan or himself. Perhaps the woman downstairs might know something
about it, he reflected, and this led him to go down and knock at Mrs.
O'Connor's door.

After a little pause Mrs. O'Connor came to the door and opened it.

"What's wanted?" she asked. Then, recognizing her visitor as one of
the lodgers in the room above, she added, "Is it the boy?"

"Yes; where is he?" demanded Marlowe, abruptly.

"It's gone to the doctor he is."

"Gone to the doctor!" repeated Marlowe, mystified. "What do you mean?"

"He was taken sick jist after you wint away, and as he co