John Bruce felt the sudden prick of the weapon on his flesh--it went a little deeper. “Wait! Stop!” he screamed out in a well-simulated paroxysm of terror. “I--I'll write it.” “I thought so!” said Crang coolly. “Well, go over there to the table then, and sit down.” He turned to the two men. “Beat it!” he snapped--and the room empty again, save for himself and John Bruce, he tapped the sheet of paper with the muzzle of his revolver. “I'll dictate. Pick up that pen!” John Bruce obeyed. He circled his lips with his tongue. “You--you won't do Larmon any harm, will you?” he questioned abjectly. “I--my life's worth more than a little money, if it's only that, and--and, if that's all, I--I'm sure he'd rather pay.” “Don't apologize!” sneered Crang. “Go on now, and write. Address him as you always do.” John Bruce dipped the pen in the ink, and wrote in a small hand: “Dear Mr. Larmon:--” He looked up in a cowed way. “All right!” grunted Crang. “I guess we'll kill another bird, too, while we're at it.” He smiled cryptically. “Go on again, and write!” And John Bruce wrote as Crang dictated: “I'm here in my rooms in the same hotel with you, but am closely watched. Our compact is known. I asked a girl to marry me, and in doing so felt she had the right to my full confidence. She did me in. She----” John Bruce's pen had halted. “Go on!” prompted Crang sharply. “It's got to sound right for Larmon--so that he will believe it. He's not a fool, is he?” “No,” said John Bruce. “Well, go on then!” And John Bruce wrote: “She was all the time engaged to the head of a gang of crooks.” Crang's malicious chuckle interrupted his dictation. “I'm not sparing myself, you see. Go on!” John Bruce continued his writing: “They are after blackmail now, and threaten to expose you. I telegraphed you to come under an alias because we are up against it and you should be on the spot; but if they knew you were here they would only attach the more importance to it, and the price would go up. They believe you are still in San Francisco, and that I am communicating with you by mail. They are growing impatient. You can trust the bearer of this letter absolutely. Go with him. He will take you where we can meet without arousing any suspicion. I am leaving the hotel now. If possible we should not risk more than one conference together, so bring a blank check with you. There is no other way out. It is simply a question of the amount. I am bitterly sorry that this has happened through me. John Bruce.” Crang, with his revolver pressed into the back of John Bruce's neck, leaned over John Bruce's shoulder and read the letter carefully. “Fold it, and put it in that envelope without sealing it, and address the envelope to Mr. R. L. Peters at the Bayne-Miloy Hotel!” he instructed.