Nick sprang back, but before he could draw a weapon he found himself looking into the muzzle of a loaded revolver. The woman certainly had the drop on him! Then a young man came from an inner room and took the revolver while the woman went through the form of securing Nick’s wrists. The detective did not resist. He knew that he could release himself from his bonds at any time. They were not of the kind used by the chief of the Great Diamond Syndicate. This accomplished, the woman stepped back and looked the detective over contemptuously. “You thought I wouldn’t recognize you?” she asked. “I certainly did,” was the reply. “How did you account for my wearing Mantelle’s jewelry?” “I imagined what had taken place in room fourteen. You are a man of action, Mr. Carter, but you have your failings. You neglected to give the sign when we met in the hall.” “I was wondering if there were signs and grips,” said Nick. “Rather a clever lot of thieves and murderers.” “Don’t become coarse,” said the woman. “Of course we have signs and grips.” Then Nick recalled a sign Mantelle had made at the café when the waiters came to the private room. It was nothing more than dropping the left hand straight at the side and pointing down with the index finger, the others being closed. Nick knew that he was in no little peril. It was true that he could cast off his bonds at any time, and might even be able to outwit the woman and her companion, but he knew well enough that other members of the syndicate were about. “Are you waiting for some one?” asked Nick, as the woman walked about the room. “Yes; I am waiting for Mantelle,” was the reply. “You will find him in the Tombs,” said Nick. “Your plans do not appear to be working to perfection in this case,” said the woman mockingly. “Mantelle will be rescued on the way to prison.” “And when he arrives here?” “Then you will be executed. We shall take no more chances. Do you know that you have given us more trouble than any dozen men ever did?” “Executed,” repeated the detective. “You use a fine word to describe the crime of murder.” “Executed is the word. You were condemned to death a long time ago.” Nick glanced about the room. There seemed to be no way out except by the door at which he had entered. The woman noticed his scrutiny of the place, and said: “Oh, we have taken good care that you shall not slip us again. Even if you could get out of the room, you would be killed in the street. Our men are warned, and are anxious to dispose of you.” “It seems to me,” said Nick, “that I have heard talk something like that before, and in this case, too. Is it the habit of the syndicate to explain its plans to prisoners who are condemned to death? You appear to me to be quite frank in your statements.” “The chief made a mistake in talking to you last night, or this morning, rather,” replied the woman. “It made us no end of trouble to-day.”