"So Pinto is going, eh?" he bit his nether lip, "and that is why he promised to bring the fifty thousand to-morrow morning. Well, somehow I don't think Pinto will go," he spoke deliberately. "I don't think Pinto will go." "It is too dangerous for you to stop him----" began Crewe. "I shall not try to stop him," said the other; "there's somebody besides myself on Pinto's track, and that somebody is going to pull him down." "But why don't you escape, colonel?" she urged. "There is the aeroplane waiting at Bromley. We could easily persuade the man that Pinto had sent us." He shook his head. "You take your own advice," he said, "and clear out to-night. Get her away, Crewe. Don't worry about the police. You've got twenty-four hours in hand. This is Pinto's night," he said between his teeth. "Pinto--the dirty hound!" Slowly they paced the street together in silence. When they came to the end the colonel turned. "I want to shake hands with you, Lollie. I shook hands with you once before, intending to send you to a very quick decease. You're carrying your money with you, aren't you, Crewe?" "Yes," said the other. "Good!" responded the colonel. "Now get away." He took no other farewell but turned abruptly and left them. Crewe was following him, but the girl caught his arm. "Don't go," she said in a low voice. "Don't you know the colonel better?" "I hate leaving him like this," he said. "So do I," said the girl quietly. "I've still got some decent feeling left. We're all in this together. We're all crooks, as bad as we can possibly be, and if he's used us we've been willing tools. What is your Christian name?" she asked. He looked at her in surprise. "Jack," he said. "What a weird question to ask!" "Isn't it?" she said with a laugh but a little catch in her throat. "Only we're to be comrades and stick to one another, and I hate calling you by your surname, so I'm going to call you Jack." It was his turn to be amused. They walked in the opposite direction to that which the colonel had taken. "You're very quiet," she said after a while. "Aren't I?" he laughed. "Have I offended you?" she asked quickly. "Was it wrong to call you Jack? Oh, yes, somebody else must have called you Jack." "No, no, it isn't that," he said, "but I haven't been called by my Christian name for years and years," he said wearily, "and somehow it seems to span all the bad times and take me back to the--the----" "The 'Jack' days?" she suggested, and he nodded. Then after another period of silence. "This is a queer ending to it all, isn't it?" he said, and her heart skipped a beat. "Ending?" she whispered. "No, no, not ending! It may be the beginning of a new life. I haven't got religious," she added quickly, "and I'm not getting sentimental. All my past life doesn't come up in front of me as it does in the story-books. Only I've just faith that there's something better in life than I've ever found."