replied, and then, with a slow and almost bovine indifference, he
responded:

"I don't know as it makes much difference to you, Black Madge, what I
hate him for as long as I do hate him, and I'm bound to get square with
him some day, whether I do it in connection with this organization that
you're getting together or on my own hook without the help of any of
you," and he glanced defiantly around. "It's enough that I do hate him.
He's done enough to me to make me hate him. It's enough that if I had
him alone in this room to-night one of us would never leave it alive
unless he got the best of me without killing me, for I would certainly
do him if I got half a chance.

"But I'll tell you one thing about him that maybe it will do some of you
good to hear, for I give you fair warning that you want to give Nick
Carter a wide berth unless you can manage somehow to catch him foul.
He's about as strong as three horses, and if he ever succeeds in getting
his grip on you you're gone. I'm about as tough as they make them, but
I'm a wee baby in Nick Carter's hands, and don't any of you forget it."

"Tell us the story," said Madge.

"Oh, it ain't no story; it's just a short account. We ran into each
other once near the front door of a bank I had gone into after hours and
without the permission of the president and board of directors. When I
picked myself up from the middle of the street after he grabbed me there
was a crack in the top of my skull which didn't get well for three
months. That's all I've got to say about it, but I want to add this: If
that fellow Slippery Al, who says killing ain't in his line, but leading
astray is, wants to bring Nick Carter my way, and will fetch him along
so as I can get him foul, I'll fix him for keeps, and no questions
asked."

And Surly Bob sat down.

He had no sooner taken his seat than the individual next to him sprang
up without waiting to be asked to do so. If you had encountered this
individual along Broadway or on Fifth Avenue in New York City, you might
not have devoted a second glance to him; but if you had, and still had
not studied him closely, you would not have thought him other than a
gentleman.

His features were handsome or would have been handsome were it not for
the crafty and shifty expression of his eyes and the otherwise
insincerity that was manifest in his face. Among his companions of the
underworld he was known far and near as Gentleman Jim.

By profession he wa