“Quick, Goyle!” he shouted; but Jimmy was out of his chair and was standing with his back against the cupboard, and in Jimmy’s ungloved hand was an ugly black weapon that was all butt and barrel. He waved them back, and they shrank away from him. “Let me see you all,” he commanded, “none of your getting behind one another. I want to see what you are doing. Get away from that coat of yours, Bat, or I’ll put a bullet in your stomach.” He had braced himself against the door in anticipation of the thrust of the man, but it seemed as though the prisoner inside had accepted the situation, for he made no sign. “So you are all wondering how I knew about the cupboard,” he jeered. He held up the gloved hand, and in the palm something flashed back the light of the lamp. Connor knew. The tiny mirror sewn in the palm of the sharper’s glove was recognized equipment. “Now, gentlemen,” said Jimmy with a mocking laugh, “I must insist on having my way. Connor, you will please bring to me the lady you abducted this afternoon.” Connor hesitated; then he intercepted a glance from Bat Sands, and sullenly withdrew from the room. Jimmy did not speak till Connor had returned ushering in the white-faced girl. He saw that she looked faint and ill, and motioned one of the men to place a chair for her. What she saw amidst that forbidding group was a young man with a little Vandyke beard, who looked at her with grave, thoughtful eyes. He was a gentleman, she could see that, and her heart leapt within her as she realized that the presence of this man in the fashionably-cut clothes and the most unfashionable pistol meant deliverance from this horrible place. “Miss Kent,” he said kindly. She nodded, she could not trust herself to speak. The experience of the past few hours had almost reduced her to a state of collapse. Jimmy saw the girl was on the verge of a breakdown. “I am going to take you home,” he said, and added whimsically, “and cannot but feel that you have underrated your opportunities. Not often will you see gathered together so splendid a collection of our profession.” He waved his hand in introduction. “Bat Sands, Miss Kent, a most lowly thief, possibly worse. George Collroy, coiner and a ferocious villain. Vennis, who follows the lowest of all grades of dishonest livelihood--blackmailer. Here,” Jimmy went on, as he stepped aside from the cupboard, “is the gem of the collection. I will show you our friend who has so coyly effaced himself.” He addressed the occupant of the cupboard. “Come out, Goyle,” he said sharply. There was no response. Jimmy pointed to one of the ruffians in the room. “Open that door,” he commanded. The man slunk forward and pulled the door open. “Come out, Goyle,” he growled, then stepped back with blank astonishment stamped upon his face. “Why--why,” he gasped, “there’s nobody there!” With a cry, Jimmy started forward. One glance convinced him that the man spoke the truth, and then----