Marion snapped the trigger of the pistol in the leader’s face. There was no report; the weapon was broken. In less than a minute the beautiful, struggling girl was bound and gagged. The last that she remembered was hearing Miss Lindsay cry for mercy. When she opened her eyes again she was in a closed carriage. There was a handkerchief across her mouth and her wrists were tied together loosely. Opposite her in the carriage sat Jack Green’s companion. His dark, burning eyes gleamed at her from under a slouch hat and never left her face for a moment. The air in the carriage was almost stifling, and without thinking of the consequences Marion half rose from her seat and with her manacled hands made a feeble effort to lower the window. “The window is locked and so are the doors,” said a muffled voice. “You are a prisoner, Miss Marlowe, so you may as well submit gracefully.” Marion glanced at the speaker as she sank back upon her seat. The voice was almost familiar. She tried to think where she had heard it. After that not a word was spoken until the carriage stopped. They had been riding for a long time and Marion was almost exhausted. Some one opened the carriage door from the outside and let in a shaft of light from the side lamps. The young girl caught one glimpse of a hideous face, and then drew back with a gasp of horror. It was the Chinaman with the fearfully scarred face who stood by the step. In the glare of the lamp she had recognized him instantly. “Get out!” The words were spoken in the same muffled voice by the occupant of the carriage, and as Marion rose to her feet her companion deftly blindfolded her. She could smell a sickening odor as the hideous Chinaman took her in his arms. It made her ill and faint almost in a second. The poor girl realized that she was being carried into some sort of a house and almost instinctively she guessed that it was a laundry. Passing through a room that smelled strongly of suds, she could feel that she was being carried down some steps and through a long, narrow passage-way. At last a key clicked in a lock and a door was opened and then closed behind her. She had evidently arrived at the end of her journey. In an instant the bands were entirely removed, and as she opened her eyes and looked about she almost cried aloud in astonishment. It was as if she had been suddenly transported to another sphere—there was absolutely nothing familiar in a single detail of her surroundings. She was in a large, low room, hung with Oriental tapestries and covered with thick, rich rugs. There were multi-colored lanterns hanging from various points of the ceiling, and low couches, small tables and magnificently inlaid stools were scattered profusely about the apartment. The hideous Chinaman had disappeared completely, but her companion in the carriage was still seated at her side; he seemed to be watching her amazement with a great deal of satisfaction.