"Yeah, they're after me. I'm in for it right. They had the darbies on me, but I beaned the dick that nabbed me, got 'em off, took his gat, swiped a taxi, an' here I am. My hunch was right. Dago Mike squealed on the loft-job croak." "How did you--find me--this room?" gasped Helen. Despite the desperation of the situation, Don Haskins grinned a little. "Seen you when you poked your head outta the window; shinned up the porch, an' here I am." "I--I haven't got the money, Don; I haven't got it--yet." "But you're gonna get it to-morrow? I betcha y'are." His tone was menacing. "You gotta hide me somewheres until----Mebbe you can drive me somewheres in a car. Boston, huh?" Helen lifted her hands in a weary gesture. "Everything seems to be happening at once," she whispered. "I--I don't know if I am going to be able to get the money or not--now." The man glowered menacingly. "Don'tcha try to pull no stall on me; that stuff don't go. Understand?" "Don, listen. My husband was on the same street yesterday when--when I went to that place to see you. His publisher saw me--the man I used to work for." "Aw, say; you don't expect me to swallow no guff like that?" "Sh! Not so loud, Don. It's true. Atchinson saw me. Kirklan didn't believe it at first, but now he feels sure it's true. At first he'd promised me the money. I told him that I wanted to pay an old bill, but I don't know what he is going to do now. Then"--a shudder went through her--"to make it all worse, a man came to the house to-night, a Mr. Sarbella. He----" Haskins lifted his hand to his unshaven chin and stared at her dubiously. "Sarbella? I guess you're bats, ain'tcha? Why, that guy's dead!" "Not--not Andrea," choked Helen. "Victor Sarbella. At first I thought--they look so much alike. He recognized me. Oh, the awful look of hatred that he gave me!" "You mean that Sarbella spilled to Gilmore?" "I--I don't know. I haven't seen any one since dinner. I--I suppose he did. He hates me, and he wants revenge. The newspapers said----" "That he was gonna get you," finished Don. "Yeah, I remember readin' that. The papers made quite a piece about it--Eyetalian revenge an' that sort of spiel. I guess you're some scared that the Sarbella guy's gonna croak you, huh? Right here in the house, is he?" Helen nodded. "Yes, right here in the house," she answered. Don whistled softly. "Well, if that ain't the cat's eyebrows!" he murmured, as he stared at her suspiciously. If what she told him was true, he probably had lost the club he had been holding over her head to extort money from her. But he doubted if it were true; Helen, he told himself, was clever. Perhaps she hadn't found it easy to get the thousand dollars blackmail money from her husband, and she had made up this story as a pure bluff. "Where's the Gilmore guy?" he demanded. "I don't know. I told you that I hadn't seen any one since dinner. I can't understand why Kirklan hasn't come to me, if Sarbella has told him."