t his uncle's apartment was 12. He did not take the self-serve elevator, but the stairs. The hall on the second fl

ices and he knocked again. He had to rap

t? What do

, forbidding countenance, flat-breasted and middle-aged. Behind her, farther back in the room, the roughrider caught a glimpse of a fat, gross, ashen-faced

James Cunningham's apar

trembling violently. Something clicked in her t

et out, then shut the door swiftly in the face of

ed from its catch. The key i

riend are so darned worried. Who were they lookin' for when they opened the doo

cattleman had an impression of a light being flashed off some

the same instant noticed that the door was ajar. No answer came. His finger fou

, I reckon I'll step in an' leave a note. Or maybe I'll

groped along the wall for the button to throw on

aint panting of s

f mice pattered up and down his spine. Something was wrong. The sixth sense o

re?" he as

was a faint rustle of some

rouched in t

Every sense in him was alert, keyed up to closest attention. He knew that some one,

ar his hammering heart. A stifled gasp,

caught at a small wrist, and fastened there. In the fraction of a second

ash of lightning searing his brain, a crash that fille