“You have killed him!” But the next moment she peered eagerly into the eyes of the young man and exclaimed: “No. He’s coming to.” She rubbed his forehead and chafed his hands. “Who is he?” asked Patsy. “My brother,” she replied, sharply. After a while the young man was sufficiently restored to stand on his feet when helped up by Patsy. “You’ve done damage enough,” said the young woman, “and you can now go away.” “I’ll help you home with him,” said Patsy. “No, I don’t want you to do that.” She stood up and looked Patsy straight in the eyes and said: “You shall not see me go home to-night. If you don’t go away, I shall stay here, or else go somewhere where you can’t find me. I know you. You are one of Nick Carter’s people. Go away. You can do nothing to-night, and you can’t find out anything about me.” Casting a glance about, Patsy was satisfied that he saw Chick on the other side of the street. Indeed, he had been conscious during the time that he was defending himself from the assault of this athletic brother and sister that Chick had come down on the other side. Believing that they did not know that Chick was ready to follow, he thought it best to end the affair by walking off. “All right, if you say so,” said Patsy. “Only, you might have said so from the first, and not kept jabbing me in the face.” He turned and sauntered up the street. Reaching the corner, he turned backward and saw that the young man and woman were watching him. He turned the corner and went out of sight. No sooner was he gone than the pair hurriedly ran down the street to about the middle of the block, and as hastily climbed the steps of a rather imposing mansion, disappearing behind the doors. If the pair thought they had done so undiscovered, they were greatly mistaken, for Chick from his place had seen them and had carefully noted the house they had entered. Cautiously and stealthily, Chick crept down the street, and, reaching the house, climbed the steps sufficiently to see the number. Then perceiving that there was a doorplate on the door, he went up to the top step, and, with a lighted match, found the name. It was merely that of Rainforth. The end had been gained. The young woman had been tracked to her home. He went back to Fifth Avenue, and, turning the corner, came on Patsy awaiting him there. As soon as he saw the young detective he began to laugh. “You’ve struck a new kind of a boxer, Patsy,” he said. “That’s right,” said Patsy. “And she can hit, too. Hanged if I don’t think she can hit harder than the young fellow she calls her brother.” “Her brother?” asked Chick. “That’s what she said he was.” “Wasn’t it a stall?” “They went into the same house together.” “Perhaps so,” said Chick. “As a rule, however, brothers don’t usually run around at this hour of the night with a sister.”