At midnight the guard in the Bank of the Northern Provinces was making his round, and was ascending the stone steps which led from the vault below, when three men sprang at him, gagged him and bound him with incredible swiftness. They did not make any attempt to injure him, but with scientific thoroughness they placed him in such a position that he was quite incapable of offering resistance or of summoning assistance to his aid. They locked him in a small room usually occupied by the assistant bank manager, and proceeded to their work downstairs. “This is going to be a stiff job,” said Wallis, and he put his electric lamp over the steel grating which led to the entrance to the strong room. Persh, the stout man who was with him, nodded. “The grating is nothing,” he said, “I can get this open.” “Look for the bells, Callidino,” said Wallis. The little Italian was an expert in the matter of alarms, and he examined the door scientifically. “There is nothing here,” he said definitely. Persh, who was the best lock man in the world, set to work, and in a quarter of an hour the gate swung open. Beyond this, at the end of the passage, was a plain green door, offering no purchase whatever to any of the instruments they had brought. Moreover, the lock was a remarkable one, since it was not in the surface of the door itself, but in a small steel cabinet in the room overhead. But the blow-pipe was got to work expeditiously. Wallis had the plan of the door carefully drawn to scale, and he knew exactly where the vital spot in the massive steel covering was to be found. For an hour and a half they worked, then Persh stopped suddenly. “What was that?” he said. Without another word the three men raced back along the passage, up the stairs to the big office on the ground floor, Persh leading. As he made his appearance from the stairway a shot rang out, and he staggered. He thought he saw a figure moving in the shadow of the wall, and fired at it. “You fool!” said Wallis, “you will have the whole place surrounded.” Again a shot was fired, and this time there was no doubt as to who was the assailant. Wallis threw the powerful gleam of his lamp in the direction of the office. With one hand free and the other holding a revolver, there crouched near the door the guard they had left secure. Wallis doused his light as the man fired again. “Out of this, quick!” he cried. Through the back way they sped, up the little ladder then through the skylight where they had entered, across the narrow ledge, and through the hosier’s establishment which had been the means of entrance. Persh was mortally wounded, though he made the supreme and final effort of his life. They saw people running in the direction of the Bank, and heard a police whistle blow; but they came out of the hosier’s shop together, quietly and without fuss, three respectable gentlemen, one apparently a little the worse for drink.