"You're certain he is inside?" demanded Gibson. "Absolutely, Mr. Commissioner," assured the detective. "He's probably at the door now." Gibson stepped to one side of the door and the others stepped back also. "Open the door or we'll break it down," commanded Gibson, shouting. A man's voice answered from behind the door. "What do you want?" it asked. "Open the door," said Gibson, ignoring the question. A key clicked in the lock and the door opened. Two of the deputies sprang on the threshold beside Gibson, their automatics in their hands. "Put 'em up!" they said sharply. A large, florid-faced man, wearing an expensive house coat, with an expression of a respectable citizen highly outraged at what was before him, lifted his hands above his head. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded indignantly. "There's no use pretending injured innocence, Hatch," said Gibson coolly. "We have a search warrant and a warrant for your arrest from New York." The two deputies with drawn guns searched Hatch for a concealed weapon, patting his pockets, which they found empty. As they stepped back "Big Jim" dropped his hands to his side and smiled. "Very well, Mr. Gibson," he said obligingly. "Do your stuff." John was startled to hear Hatch call Gibson by name. Nothing had been said that even hinted of the commissioner's identity. The search warrant was handed Gibson. "Do you want me to read this?" he asked. "Don't trouble yourself," replied Hatch. "All I ask is that you don't tear things to pieces in here. Mrs. Hatch is with me and I don't want her to be bothered." "All right, boys, be quick about it," ordered Gibson, sending the officers to search the house, "and don't disturb Mrs. Hatch unless it's necessary." As the private detectives and deputies left them, Benton stepped forward with a request that Gibson and Hatch pose for a photograph. "You brought them with you, eh, Gibson?" said Hatch. Then to the photographer he added: "I'll accommodate you under one consideration." "Say it," requested Benton. "That you leave Mrs. Hatch out of this," said "Big Jim." The photographer looked to Brennan for an answer to this proposal. "Go ahead, Benton," Brennan agreed, "we won't bother Mrs. Hatch." While Benton was photographing Gibson and Hatch, John observed the bunko swindler more closely. To all outward appearances "Big Jim" might have been any one of the well-to-do business men one sees daily on the downtown streets. His hair was gray with a touch of white at the temples, his complexion ruddy. On the little finger of his plump, soft hand he wore a diamond ring in which the gem was the size of a pea. It was obvious that his suit was the work of a high-priced tailor. He had frank blue eyes that had a guileless expression and there were no criminal characteristics in the shape of his head, the position of his ears and the contour of his lips.