"You're mad as a meat-axe, Lew," said Storm commiseratingly. "I want to see the Big Triangle first. You flatter yourself! I guess I can kill you any time." "Yah!" sneered the gunman, and Storm winced. "You do make vulgar noises, Lew," he protested mildly. Mecklen leaned over the syringe he still pointed at Kit's face. "Listen, buddy. Thet heavy date o' yores is hyar, an' yew kin tell her ole Lew's sweet on her. We got the moll right hyar, an' she'll never git out again." "That's why I came," said Storm calmly. Mecklen scowled. As we have seen, he was not a man of high intellect, and Storm's frigid imperturbability made him uneasy. Like the armour of assurance which enveloped Snooper Brome, it was something which he couldn't deal with. It was as hopelessly out of his depth as the fourth dimension. Every way of attack he tried he came up against those invisible spikes, and bafflement filled him with futile anger. "I was told ter kill her, but I jest brought her home an' necked her. Don't that make yuh feel glad?" "Not half so glad as you'll feel when I shoot you through the stomach instead of through the heart!" "Last night she gimme the air, but before I'm t'rough she'll be proud ter marry me," persisted Lew. Storm rolled his cigarette across to the other corner of his mouth. "Loud cheers!" he drawled. "Going to reform, are you?" One of the chauffeurs had opened up the panel at the back of the tire cupboard, and was standing waiting by the gap. Mecklen jerked his head towards the tunnel. "In wit' yuh!" "Sure!" But Storm paused before stooping in, for the glaring hate in the gunman's eyes had roused in him an irresistible temptation to add a final tab to his brief baiting of that unlovable murderer. "You know, Lew," he murmured affably, "every day and in every way you grow more and more like an overfed dog-louse!" Then he entered the passage, and as he went Mecklen landed out a vicious kick. Storm never stopped or looked round. Mecklen would keep a little longer. Kissed Susan, had he? Arden reckoned that that kiss would turn out to be the most expensive one in Lew's amorous career. As for the kick, that would only add extra zest to the extraction of due payment. Lew's shins were within easy reach of a smart backward hack, but Storm deemed it inadvisable to court a fresh shower of ammonia, for he knew he would need all his faculties to be at concert pitch during the next hour or two, and his eyes were still twinging from the effects of the first dose he had received. They emerged into the cellars, and one chauffeur led the way to the stairs. Halfway across, Storm's foot brushed against something which went rattling across the stone floor, so that Lew and the other man pulled up with a start. "Only a mouse," said Storm genially. "I'll hold your hands if you're scared." "What was it?" demanded Mecklen sharply.