"No, an' you don't want it," answered Cutts. "To carry that body down-stairs in a bag! You must be crazy, man. That would never do at all. We'll take him by the shoulders, two of us, and drag him along as though he was blind drunk--paralyzed, don't you see--then no one will suspect anything at all." "Good! That's the very scheme. Now, then, gents, as it ain't always best for a man to know too much, you had better say good-night, and leave the management of this affair to Rube, Cutts and myself. I feel sure that we have nothing to be afraid of now, for I am confident that this fellow was working alone. If I find that I am wrong, some of us will notify you, you may rest assured. Meanwhile, the appointment remains the same as before, unless you hear to the contrary--Cagney's sanctum, day after to-morrow night." Several of the men now silently withdrew, leaving the two Cutts--father and son--Callister and Tisdale with their victim. The sound of their footsteps had scarce died away upon the carpetless stairs when the stock-broker spoke again. "Are you ready?" "Yes," answered Cutts, the elder; "I should say we were." "Then you slip round and give Pat the tip. We mustn't lose a moment, once we start, and you are to see that all is prepared." Billy Cutts, opening the door cautiously, left the room without a word. For the space of perhaps ten minutes the three men stood motionless, listening to every sound. Overhead all was silent. There was no unusual noise about the house. "That pop of yours is a daisy, Sam," whispered Callister. "It's my opinion that the report of that shot was not heard on this floor. Come, time's up. You take one arm, Rube, and I'll attend to the other. Sam can give us a lift down the stairs." Two minutes later a peculiar but by no means unusual sight might have been observed in the alley leading from the side of the Cherry street tenement through, by means of the gate pointed out by Jerry Buck to Frank Mansfield, to the rear of the Donegal Shades on Catherine street, opposite the old market building. It was two men dragging between them a third, apparently in a state of helpless intoxication, while a fourth man--a short, thick-set fellow--brought up the rear. If they were observed by any of the dwellers in the adjoining tenements, it is safe to say that their appearance attracted no attention at all, for such sights are far too common in that part of the city to excite even passing remark. The passage of the alley was made in safety--the gate was opened by Cutts--in another moment they had entered the yard facing the residence of the unfortunate Mrs. Marley, and in the rear of the Donegal Shades. Two men stood ready to receive them by the side of a little flight of steps leading down to an open cellar door. One was Billy Cutts, the other P. Slattery, the proprietor of the saloon, whose fiery shock of hair betrayed his identity at a glance. "All O. K., Pat?" said Callister, in a whisper.