The two of them threw their combined weight against it, the lock flew open and they fell forward into the darkness. Three doors leading in different directions met the glare of Mooney's match. But the fugitive had a start of at least four minutes, which was three and a half more than he required. * * * * * Mock Hen took the left-hand of the three doors and crept along a passage opening into an empty opium parlor back of the Hip Leong clubroom. Diving beneath one of the bunks he inserted his body between the lower planking at the back and the cellar wall, wormed his way some twelve feet, raised a trap and emerged into a tunnel by means of which and others he eventually reached the end of the block and the rooms of his friend Hong Sue. Here he changed from the Oriental costume according to Chinese etiquette necessary to the homicide, into a nobby suit of American clothes, put on a false mustache, and walked boldly down Park Row, while just behind him Doyers and Pell Streets swarmed with bluecoats and excited citizenry. Hudson House, the social settlement presided over by Miss Fanny and affected for business reasons by Mock Hen, was a mile and a half away. But Mock took his time. Twenty-five full minutes elapsed before he leisurely climbed the steps and slipped into the big reading room. There was no one there and Mock deftly turned back the hand of the automatic clock over the platform to three-fifty-five. Then he began to whistle. Presently Miss Fanny entered from the rear room, her face lighting with pleasure at the sight of her pet convert. "Good afternoon, Mock Hen! You are early to-day." Mock took her hand and stroked it affectionately. "I go Fulton Mark' buy li'l' terrapin. Stop in on way to see dear Miss Fan'." They stood thus for a moment, and while they did so the clock struck four. "I go now!" said Mock suddenly. "Four o'clock already." "It's early," answered Miss Fanny. "Won't you stay a little while?" "I go now," he repeated with resolution. "Good-by li'l' teacher!" She watched until his lithe figure passed through the door, and presently returned to the back room. Mock waited outside until she had disappeared. Then he changed back the clock. * * * * * "We've got you, you blarsted heathen!" cried Mooney hoarsely as he and two others from the Central Office threw themselves upon Mock Hen on the landing outside the door of his flat. "Look out, Murtha. Pipe that thing under his arm!" "It's a bloody turtle!" gasped Murtha, shuddering "What's the matter, boys?" inquired Mock. "Leggo my arm, can't yer? What'd yer want, anyway?" "We want you, you yellow skunk!" retorted Mooney. "Open that door! Lively now!" "Sure!" answered Mock amiably. "Come on in! What's bitin' yer?" He unlocked the door and threw it open. "Take a chair," he invited them. "Have a cigar? You there, Emma?"