Silently unbolting the door, he crept up the stairs, the others listening breathlessly for the signal he proposed to give. Through their own door--open on the crack--they could hear Cutts open the door of the room above. Evidently he had met with no opposition, for the sound of his footsteps could be heard overhead walking about the room. "Blame me if I don't think it was this cuss that was up there alone, and no one else," muttered the elder Cutts, indicating the detective, who lay white and still, dead to all appearance, in the midst of the little group. "He's wrong, Lije," whispered Tisdale to the stock-broker, who stood by his side, a little apart from the rest. "I heard the footsteps of two persons, at least, overhead there before that iron thing came down. Luck has deserted us since my--my--you know what. I'm doomed to be the Jonah of the gang." "Hush, Rube, for Heaven's sake! Can't you let up on your infernal croaking even in a strait like this? If the police are upon us, why, we'll do the best thing that offers. If it's only this fellow, Hook, why, Sam Cutts' bullet has settled him. But not another word now. Here's Billy coming back." The young detective, if one so unfaithful to his trust can truthfully be so termed, entered at this moment with a smile of satisfaction on his face. "It's all right," he exclaimed, closing the door. "There ain't a soul in the room up-stairs. It's fixed up roughly to look like housekeeping, but it's my belief that it was hired by Hook for the simple purpose of catching us. It's a common method with the profesh." "Hadn't some one better inquire of the agent on the first floor?" put in one of the men who had not spoken before. "Some other time will do for that," said Callister, hurriedly. "What we want to do now is to dispose of this body without further delay. We can investigate later on." "Well, and how do you propose to do it?" "I rather guess we can fix that if we can get it through the alley to the Donegal Shades--eh, Rube?" replied the broker, with a smile. "After we've finished with Mr. Hook, he'll trouble us no more, I fancy. It's too bad to deprive the New York police force of such a bright and shining light, but then he had better have minded his own affairs." "So I say," growled another of the gang--a rough-looking fellow. "These blamed detectives don't give a hard working man no kinder show." "Better be sure he's actually croaked before we bury him," grumbled Tisdale, in his characteristic way. "That's soon done," returned Callister. "I guess I'm doctor enough for that." He knelt beside the body and unbuttoned the coat and vest. Placing his ear upon the detective's breast, he listened to the beating of the heart. But the heart of Caleb Hook had apparently ceased to beat. Nor did his pulse give sign of any movement whatever. "Dead as a door nail!" said the broker, laconically. "Say, Sam Cutts, have you got such a thing as a big bag?"