"Guess they're just coming. Hard luck," said Pepper. "'Fraid you'll not get in now." Lane counted five dark forms against the background of dim light. He saw the red glow of a cigarette. Then the door upon which Pepper had knocked opened to let out a flare. Pepper gave Lane a shove across the threshold and followed him. Lane did not recognize the young man who had opened the door. The room was large, with old walls and high ceiling, a round table with chairs and a sideboard. It had no windows. The door on the other side was closed. "Pepper, who's this you're ringin' in on me?" demanded the young fellow. "A pard of mine. Now don't be peeved, Sammy," replied Pepper. "If there's any kick I'll take the blame." Then the five young men glided swiftly into the room. The last one was Dick Swann. In the act of closing the door behind him, he saw Lane, and started violently back. His face turned white. His action, his look silenced the talk. "Lane! What do you want?" he jerked out. Lane eyed him without replying. He thought he read more in Swann's face and voice than any of the amazed onlookers. "Dick, I fetched Lane up for a little game," put in Pepper, with composure. Swann jerked as violently out of his stiffened posture as he had frozen into it. His face changed--showed comprehension--relief--then flamed with anger. "Pepper, it's a damn high-handed imposition for you to bring strangers here," he burst out. "Well, I'm sorry you take it that way," replied Pepper, with deprecatory spreading of his hands. He was quite cool and his little eyes held a singular gleam. "You never kicked before when I brought a stranger." Swann fiercely threw down his cigarette. "Hell! I told you never to bring any Middleville man in here." "Ahuh! I forgot. You'll have to excuse me," returned Pepper, not with any particular regret. "What's the matter with my money?" queried Lane, ironically, at last removing his steady gaze from Swann to the others. Mackay was there, and Holt Dalrymple, the boy in whom Lane had lately interested himself. Holt resembled his sister in his dark rich coloring, but his face wore a shade of sullen depression. The other two young men Lane had seen in Middleville, but they were unknown to him. "Pepper, you beat it with your new pard," snarled Swarm. "And you'll not get in here again, take that from me." The mandate nettled Pepper, who evidently felt more deeply over this situation than had appeared on the surface. "Sure, I'll beat it," returned he, resentfully. "But see here, Swann. Be careful how you shoot off your dirty mouth. It's not beyond me to hand a little tip to my friend Chief of Police Bell." "You damned squealer!" shouted Swann. "Go ahead--do your worst. You'll find I pull a stroke.... Now get out of here." With a violent action he shoved the little man out into the hall. Then turning to Lane he pointed with shaking hand to the door. "Lane, you couldn't be a guest of mine."