Still his companion delayed about reappearing, and finally Bill rose to his feet in a huff. “Let him go!” he growled. “I’ll go back alone! I’ll get the whole of it!” But as he started toward the door the other man reappeared. “Well, where yer been?” Bill angrily demanded. “Did yer think we had a month to do this little trick in?” “Oh. that’s all right, Bill,” was the husky reply. “I ran into Sheeny Joe out here and had hard work to shake him.” “Well, come, Sam; if yer going to stick by me through this thing, let’s get a move on!” Together they left the saloon and turned their steps toward the house on Euclid Avenue. As they reached the steps of the house Sam huskily whispered: “Mebbe we can’t git in, pal.” “I will get in,” vowed Bill. “I know the signal. If he refuses to answer I’ll kick the door down.” But the signal was answered directly by an old woman, who peered out suspiciously from the partly open door. The sound of a chain told the two ruffians that it would be useless for them to attempt to force the door open. “Who is it?” demanded the woman. “Let us in, Mag,” said Bill. “We’ve important business with the boss.” “Go ’way from here!” rasped the old hag. “He can’t be disturbed any more to-night.” “Well, he better be disturbed!” said Bill. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll see us! We’re dead onto something that means a heap to him. The police——” “The police?” hissed the woman. “There’s something doing, Mag, and the boss should know about it. It’s for his good we’ve come back here. You know he trusts us, so unhook that chain and let us in quick before we are seen here.” After a little pause the chain rattled again, and then the door swung open. “If you know anything the boss better know, why, all right,” mumbled the old woman; “but if you’re lying, look out! That’s all!” “Take us to him!” ordered Bill. A few moments later the two ruffians stood in the presence of a man with iron-gray hair and mustache and deeply furrowed features. The eyes of this man were sharp and restless, while his right hand was small as that of a woman and white as snow. “What’s this stuff Mag tells me?” he demanded, in a cold, hard voice. “Why are you two back here?” “We come back here for your own good, Mr. Jarvis,” declared Bill. “Eh, Sam?” “Sure, Bill,” nodded the second ruffian. “For my own good? You said something about the police.” “That’s what we did, Mr. Jarvis.” “What did you mean?” “You tell him, Bill,” urged Sam, backing off a little and standing in the doorway of the room. “What ails yer?” growled Bill in disgust. “Are you afraid? Well, I’m not afraid of the Old Boy himself.” Instantly the suspicions of the man with the corpse-like hand were aroused. “What are you two rascals up to?” he demanded harshly. “Speak up, both of you!” “Look here, Mr. Jarvis,” said Bill, wagging his head. “We opine we’ve done a good turn for you to-night.” “You were paid for it.”