"You're going out my way," said the colonel, "and I swear no harm will come to you. You're leaving to-night." "But how?" she asked, affrighted. "Selby will tell you. You'll meet him downstairs. Now be a sensible girl and do as I tell you. Selby will go with you and see you safe. We made all preparations for your departure to-night." "What's this, colonel?" asked Crewe. "You're out of it," said the colonel savagely. "I'm running this show myself. If you want to join Lollie later, why you can. For the present, she's going just where I want her to go and in the way I have planned." He held out his hand to the girl and she took it. "Good-bye and good luck, Lollie!" he said. "But can't I go back to my rooms?" she asked. He shook his head. "Do as I tell you," he said shortly. She stood at the door and for a moment her eyes met Crewe's and he moved toward her. "Wait." The colonel gripped his arm. "Good-bye, Lollie," and the door shut on the girl. "Let me go," said Crewe between his teeth. "If she trusts you, I don't. This is some trick of that dirty half-breed!" With a snarl of rage Pinto whipped his ever-ready knife from his hip pocket and flung it. It was the colonel who drew Crewe aside, or that moment was his last. The knife whizzed past and was buried almost to the hilt in the wall. The colonel broke the tense silence which followed. "Pinto," he said in his silkiest voice, "if you ever want to know what it feels like to be a dead man, just repeat that performance, will you?" Then his rage burst forth. "By God! I'll shoot either of you if you play the fool in front of me again. You dirty little pickpockets that I've taken from the gutter! You miserable little sneak-thieves!" He let loose a flood of abuse that made even Crewe wince. "Now sit down, both of you," he finished up, out of breath. He went to the window and looked out. The car which he had hired for the occasion was still standing at the door and he distinguished Selby talking to the chauffeur. "Listen you," he said, "and especially you, Crewe. You're too trusting with these females. Maybe Lollie's speaking the truth, but it is just as likely she's lying. I'm not going to take your corroboration, you know, Crewe," he said. "We've got to depend on her word. There's nobody else can speak for her, is there?" Before Crewe could speak the colonel was answered: "_Jack o' Judgment! Poor old Jack o' Judgment! He'll speak for Lollie!_" The colonel looked up with a curse. There was nobody in the room, but the voice had been louder than ever he had heard it before. It seemed as though it emanated from a disembodied spirit that was floating through the air. There was a knock at the outer door. CHAPTER XXXIII WHERE THE VOICE LIVED "Open it," said the colonel in a low voice; "open it, Crewe"--he pulled open the drawer and took out something--"and if it is Jack o' Judgment----"