"Oh, shut up!" growled Pinto; "why go on acting before us? We were all in it." "Hush!" said the colonel with a glance at the door. There was a silence. All eyes were fixed on the door. "Did you hear anything?" asked the colonel under his breath. His face was a shade paler than they had ever remembered seeing it. "It is nothing," said Pinto; "that fellow's got on your nerves." The colonel walked to the sideboard and poured out a generous portion of whisky and drank it at a gulp. "Lots of things are getting on my nerves," he said, "but nothing gets on my nerves so much as losing money. Crewe, we've got to go after that Yorkshireman again--at least somebody has got to go after him." "And that somebody is not going to be me," said Crewe quietly. "I did my part of the business. Let Pinto have a cut." Pinto Silva shook his head. "We'll drop him," he said decisively, and for the first time Crewe realised how dominating a factor Pinto had become in the government of the band. "We'll drop him----" Suddenly he stopped and craned his head round. It was he who had heard something near the door, and now with noiseless steps he tiptoed across the room to the door, and gripping the handle, opened it suddenly. A gun had appeared in his hand, but he did not use it. Instead, he darted through the open doorway and they heard the sound of a struggle. Presently he came back, dragging by the collar a man. "Got him!" he said triumphantly, and hurled his captive into the nearest chair. CHAPTER IX THE COLONEL EMPLOYS A DETECTIVE Their prisoner was a stranger. He was a lean, furtive-looking man of thirty-five, below middle height, respectably dressed, and at first glance, the colonel, whose hobby was distinguishing at a look the social standing of humanity, was unable to place him. Crewe locked the door. "Now then," said the colonel, "what the devil were you doing listening at my door? Was that his game, Mr. Silva?" "That was his game," said the other, brushing his hands. "What have you got to say before I send for the police?" asked the colonel virtuously. "What have you got to say for yourself? Sneaking about a gentleman's flat, listening at keyholes!" The man, who had been roughly handled, had risen and was putting his collar straight. If he had been taken aback by the sudden onslaught, he was completely self-possessed now. "If you want to send for the police, you'd better start right away," he said; "you've got a telephone, haven't you? Perhaps I'll have a job for the policeman, too. You've no right to assault me, my friend," he said, addressing Pinto resentfully. "What were you doing?" asked the colonel. "Find out," said the man sharply. The colonel stroked his long moustache, and his manner underwent a change. "Now look here, old man," he said almost jovially; "we're all friends here, and we don't want any trouble. I daresay you've made a mistake, and my friend has made a mistake. Have a whisky and soda?" The man grinned crooked.