He had determined upon a bloody piece of work, but the still, small voice of his conscience whispered to him not to do what he meditated. “Tambourine,” he growled, “you can’t stop here.” “Where are the others?” “Just left.” This information did not seem to please Mr. Jack. “Gone, eh?” “Yes,” replied Brodie, “they pulled off in the barge as you knocked at the door.” “Go to sleep, Crackers,” said the little fellow, throwing himself on the floor; “I guess we have as good a right here as anybody else, seeing that we helps pay the rent. We haven’t got our receipt about us for last month, but what of that?--they won’t go to court to have us dispossessed.” “I told you to go.” “Now, Skip, we’re come to stay,” answered Jack. “Eh, Crackers?” “He won’t squeal anyhow,” muttered Skip, “but I’d rather he was not here.” There was another knock on the door; the ruffian went to it and, after getting the countersign, opened it. “It’s you, is it? Curse you!” He caught a young girl who stood in the doorway roughly by the arm, and dragged her in. “Oh, don’t! you hurt me, Skip.” The rascal released his hold, and closing the door securely, fastened it. Returning to the woman, he again caught her and, dragging her toward the light, cried: “Now, traitor, what have you got to say for yourself? Quick, or I will shake the life out of you.” Dell Ladley was a fragile girl of about twenty, and she would have been considered very beautiful were it not for the deep marks of dissipation already stamped upon her young features. “You would not hurt me, Skip,” she said; “you know you wouldn’t.” “No, not I”--again he shook her--“but if you would jug us all, you know the penalty.” “What do you mean?” “That you have betrayed us to that demon, Nick Carter. You grow pale.” “It is a lie!” she exclaimed. The ruffian threw her to the floor, and picking up a bludgeon, he lifted it and was about to strike. “When you were on the point of death, I nursed you,” moaned the girl. “Oh, have pity on me!” Her words arrested the villain’s arm. “I have thought over all that,” Skip Brodie said. “And you will have mercy?” She dragged herself to him, and clasped her arms about his knees, looking the while imploringly up into his face. “It is a lie!” Dell continued. “No, it is not.” The girl shuddered. She knew the nature of the man she had to deal with, and was quite aware that to him the taking of a human life was but a passing incident, remembered for a few days, and then forgotten unless something occurred to recall it. “You will not, oh, you will not kill me!” pleaded the trembling girl. “But I will, traitor.” “No, no, oh, mercy!” The bludgeon was again raised on high and was about to descend. “Stop!” Tambourine Jack caught the uplifted arm and placed the cold muzzle of a revolver against the villain’s head. Skip allowed the club to fall to his side and pushed the little fellow away from him.