Enoch held out his manacled wrists. After a moment’s hesitation, Burt removed the handcuffs. “Enoch,” he said, “if you do the square thing, I may befriend you; try to escape, and I will shoot you down.” “I give you my word I shall not try to escape,” said Cook. The rascal meant to keep his word. Upon arriving at Murphy’s, Burt rang the bell. A young man’s head appeared at one of the upper windows. “What do you want?” “To see Monte.” “You can’t see him.” “Come down and open the door.” “I won’t.” “If you don’t, I’ll burst the door off its hinges,” said Burt. “Who are you?” “I am a detective.” “Got a warrant?” “Yes.” “I’ve got my orders not to admit any one to the house.” “You’d better admit me.” “I won’t, all the same.” “Is Murphy at home?” “He has left the city.” “That’s a lie!” “Perhaps it is.” “Will you open the door?” “No.” Burt threw his shoulders against it. The door did not budge. “My friend,” said the young man, leveling a revolver at the detective, “try that again, and I’ll come pretty near sending a bullet through your brain!” CHAPTER XVII. AT MONTE MURPHY’S. A crowd gathered around the “fence,” one member of which--a laborer returning from work--had a crowbar. Burt seized the iron bar. “Burt,” said Cook, “don’t do anything rash, I beg of you!” Burt looked at the fellow in surprise. “What do you care whether I get shot?” he asked. “I do care; and I am sure that fellow means to shoot.” Two policemen came running up, and, at sight of them, the strange young man withdrew from the window. Burt explained to the police who he was, and stated it was necessary he should gain entrance to the “fence.” The officers beat a lively tattoo on the door with their clubs. The young man then condescended to open it. Burt stepped inside, followed by Cook. “I guess I can paddle my own boat now,” he said to the policemen, and they withdrew. Burt closed and locked the door. Then he turned upon the young man who had threatened him. The latter now looked rather sheepish. “Who are you?” asked Burt. “Some folks call me Tony Riley.” “What are you doing here?” “I was going to ask you that question, mister,” said Riley. “Answer me.” “I’m here because this is my home.” “Where is Monte?” “How do I know?” “Don’t be so saucy.” “I don’t know where he is.” “Ain’t he in the house?” “No. What do you want with him?” “That is none of your business. When did he leave?” “That is none of your business.” Burt raised his fist threateningly. Tony reached for his revolver. The detective sprang upon the fellow, and bore him to the floor. Then Burt disarmed Riley. “Now,” he said, allowing the man to rise, “I want you to be more civil.” “This is an outrage!” “What?” “You forcing your way into this house and assaulting me.” “Have a care, or I’ll give you substantial reasons for complaining!” “I’ve done nothing.” “You threatened to shoot me.” “That was only a bluff.”