“I don’t trust them, man. But what can I do? I’ve got to get to one of those parties. And if they find out who I am, or know all the time, why I’m out of luck, that’s all. But I’m not going to let Moore stay in their hands without trying to follow along and get him out. You see that, don’t you?” “I sure do,” he answered. He paused a moment. Then he reached into his side pocket and brought out two little articles done up in tissue-paper. “Guess the Chief thinks a good deal of you, Clayton. Anyhow, he’s sent you a curiosity that very few operatives are allowed to carry. This is a ring, fashioned after those which the gentle and affectionate Borgias were said to employ. You press it on the inside and a tiny needle sticks out of the snake’s head in front and does for any one it touches. It does for them so quickly, too, that they never know what struck them. The inventor presented it to the Chief.” He handed me a curiously carved gold ring, the loop the body of a snake, and the snake’s head, a cobra’s spread hood, the crest part of the ring. I took it in a gingerly fashion. “What on earth does he want me to do with this?” “Wear it. And when you get in a tight place, use it. It is locked now so that it can hurt no one. But holding it in a flame for two seconds melts the lock. Then, if you lift that little catch with your thumb and press the back of the ring, it will kill instantly any one whom the front of the ring touches. And that’s that.” “What’s the other little plaything?” I asked him dryly. He drew a flat steel box about two inches in diameter from its wrappings and held it between his finger and thumb like a conjurer. “This, my friends, is one of the finest, strongest and most reliable steel files ever produced. It is called ‘the burglar’s friend indeed,’ is packed in a neat box which will fit any gentleman’s vest pocket, and is guaranteed for the life of the holder and longer. I offer it to you for a mere pittance. Namely, your guarantee not to use it to break out of jail.” “I won’t pay that much,” I laughed. “Not with the police after me as they are at present.” “All right, take it for nothing. Anyhow, I guess we can prevent your going to jail. The Chief has given you and me a free hand. And he’ll dope out some way to help us deal with the police situation. He’s coming to New York himself.” “By gad, I wish he would,” I answered. “I’d feel a lot easier in my mind. I hate to think of Moore.” “Never mind, we’ll get him out between us,” Pride answered. “And now I think we’d both better go to bed. It looks like I’ll have an active day to-morrow, and you want to get a good rest so that your face will heal up and you’ll be able to get out and about again.” “All right. Where are you living?” “Next door. I’ll be in in the morning. So long!” And he was gone.