“We decided to bring you down a peg or two before your death, to show you how little you were really capable of when pitted against men of ability and courage.” “To humiliate me, in fact?” “To punish you.” “What do you suppose I’ll do to your syndicate when I get out of here?” asked Nick. “You’ll never get out,” was the reply. “You are as good as dead now.” Nick smiled and turned his face to the wall. He was listening intently for some indication of the presence of his assistants. He had no idea how they would get to him, but he was satisfied that get to him they would. Presently there came a ring at the door. Nick knew by the sound that he was on the second floor of the house. He had little doubt that he was still in the house occupied wholly or in part by the African fortune teller. He was now convinced that the woman was a confederate of the diamond thieves. Nick listened with his heart beating wildly as he heard the front door opened. He was naturally anxious about the safety of his assistants and Joseph. He had not the least doubt that the thieves had actually planned a robbery at his house. As fate would have it, there was no one in the house save Joseph, if Chick and Patsy had obeyed his telephone call. The thieves might really secure his diamonds, but that was not the chief cause of his anxiety. “There will be a long score to settle when I get out of this,” he thought. Presently the man arose from the desk and approached the door leading into the hall. There were now loud voices out there, and Nick was listening with all his senses alert. The man opened the door a trifle. “What is coming off out there?” he demanded, in French. “This fool servant won’t let me into the house,” came a voice which sounded remarkably like that of the alleged reporter who had guided Nick to the place. It was like the young fellow’s voice, and yet it was not. There was a note in it which Nick recognized. He was satisfied that it was Chick playing a desperate game. “What is the matter, Maurice?” asked the man, standing in the doorway. “He doesn’t make correct replies,” was the answer. “I do, too! He’s a fool!” “Bring him up here and keep a strong hold on him,” commanded the chief of the diamond thieves. “I’ll go up there, all right,” was the reply, “but if he touches me, I’ll knock his head off. I ought to know all about this den, if I have fuddled my head a bit with drink, and I have been with you longer than he has.” Nick saw the chief step back to his desk and grasp a revolver. “That is a counterfeit,” he said, looking toward Nick with a smile. “It is probably one of your men trying to break into the game. We’ll let him up and see what he looks like; then we’ll settle him for good.”