They were fairly quiet, for they knew that loud noise might bring the police down on the dive, and then their night’s shelter would be closed up. But they were a tough lot, and every man of them would have joined in to help anybody there if a policeman, or a dozen of them, had come in to make an arrest. This was so well known that the police usually waited for their men to come out before trying to arrest them. There hadn’t been a murder in Daddy Drew’s for a long time, and a tough present on this night remarked to another that one was about due. A few minutes after twelve, there was a light knock at the door. The bartender, who went to it and looked through a slide, came back to Nat. “Feller out there askin’ fer youse,” he said. Both men got up, but Nat pushed Jack back into his chair. “I’ll see who ’tis,” he said. He went to the door and looked through the slide. Claymore’s face appeared there as if it were a picture in a frame. “He’s all right,” said Nat to the bartender; “friend o’ mine. Let him in.” The door was opened, and Nat’s friend came in. As he went to the back of the room silently with Nat, many curious glances were cast at him. “Who is he?” asked one of another. And those who answered came pretty near to guessing the truth. “Some fellow,” said they, “who gets others to do his work for him.” Two or three knew Claymore by sight, and they were not surprised. “Well?” said the newcomer, when he sat down at the table in the corner, and three heads were put close together. “We done it,” said Nat. “Sure?” “He’s dead as a nail.” There was a short pause. Then, in a low voice: “You lie, Nat.” Both the criminals started angrily, but they gritted their teeth and looked at the man, who added: “He’s just as alive as I am. Less than an hour ago he brought Hank Low in on a charge of murder.” “Then,” exclaimed Jack; “it’s all right, ain’t it?” “No! it isn’t all right. Carter believes that Low is innocent, and he has arrested him for a bluff. He knows that you did it.” Jack turned ghastly pale. Nat looked as if he didn’t believe it. “He can’t have any evidence against us,” said he. “He’ll get it. You know Nick Carter.” “But how can he get it? Nobody saw us.” “Somebody must have seen you enter the hotel.” “No,” said Nat, positively; “I swear, Claymore, we got in without being seen.” “You haven’t told me how you managed that.” “No, for you sent us down the road on the chance of a pot shot at the detective. I’ll tell you. There’s an office building next to the hotel, you know, with an alley between.” “Yes.” “We went in there and found an empty room. It was easy enough to pick the lock and get in. Then we found that a short board would reach from the window to an open window in the hotel. Jack went out and swiped a board from the place where they’re putting up a new building. At twenty-five minutes past three we put the board out, crawled across and got to the preacher’s room without meeting anybody.”