Patsy expected no less. He forced her quickly away, then swung her around, to crowd her against a wall, rendered a bit impatient by her fury, and now determined to handcuff her and end her struggles. Instead of forcing her against the wall, however, Patsy forced her against the only door in the narrow side entry--the rear door of her own suite. It was an unfortunate move on his part. The struggle was now heard from within. The door was suddenly opened--by the man whom Danny had seen with Kate Crandall that afternoon. All this proved disastrous for Patsy Garvan. He partly lost his balance when the door opened, and he fell against the casing. A gasp of relief came from the woman, and then a fierce cry. “Down him! Down him, Jim, for God’s sake!” Dacey needed no bidding. He had guessed the truth upon hearing the noise of the struggle. He had drawn a weapon while approaching the door--the same weapon that felled Nick Carter a quarter hour later. It fell like a flash when Patsy reeled against the casing, and while the frantic appeal was still on the woman’s lips. The sandbag caught Patsy squarely on the head, dropping him as it dropped Nick a little later. Without a groan, even, he sank in a crimped and senseless heap on the threshold of the door. It was a brutal blow, dealt by the hand of a brutal man. It was this man who had been smoking a cigarette in Kate Crandall’s suite just before the arrival of Nick Carter, but who had stolen into the rear entry before the detective entered, returning after his departure. Safely enough, indeed, the woman had given Nick permission to search her apartments. “Quick!” she now said curtly. “Drag him in here, Jim.” “Do you know him?” questioned Dacey, hastening to obey. “Know him--I should say so!” snapped Kate. “He’s one of Carter’s assistants. His name is Garvan.” “The devil!” Dacey exclaimed. “Things are looking bad.” “We can right them, or get what’s coming to us, at least,” Kate hurriedly replied. “Come what may, Jim, these dicks will have nothing on us. We must stave off arrest and exposure, however, if possible. Cut one of the window cords and bind this whelp.” Dacey hastened to do so, asking, in the meantime: “How did you run foul of him?” “We met in the entry.” “What was he doing there?” “Give it up,” said Kate tersely. “There must be more doing than we have suspected. There is only one course for us, Jim, until we can land the coin.” “What’s that?” “We must get Nick Carter, also, if he has gone to Sheldon’s suite, as I suspect,” Kate hurriedly explained. “We must get away with both of these dicks and hold them at your place until we can bring Sheldon to our terms. There’s nothing else to it.” “Can it be done?” questioned Dacey doubtfully. “It must be done,” Kate insisted. “Is Moran in the side street with your limousine?” “Yes.” “Open the window. Whistle him up here. He will aid us.” “Surest thing you know,” cried Dacey, darting to the window.