Hugging the wall, Johnny sidled along toward 316. He knew the spot
exactly, for though Johnny had never been of the underworld, he had
spent many a restless night prowling about in all parts of the city.
Suddenly he flattened out in a doorway and stood motionless, breathing
quietly.

Had he heard the faint pat-pat of footsteps? Had he caught the dark blue
of a shadow on yonder wall? For a full three minutes he stood there;
then hearing, seeing nothing more, he glided out and resumed his
snake-like journey toward the door of 316.

This time he did not go far, for suddenly looming from dark doorways
four huge forms sprang at him. Johnny understood it all in a moment. The
note was but a trick. They had not intended to trust him to leave the
diamonds. They did not live at 316 at all. They merely had meant to
draw him to this dark alley, then to "get" him. Well, they would find
him a tough nut to crack!

His right shot out, and a heavy bulk crashed to the pavement. His left
swung and missed. A wild creature sprang at his throat. Johnny's mind
worked like lightning. Four were too many. They would get him. He must
have help. The cat cry of the underworld! He had known that cry two
years before. He had many friends who would answer it. They had
introduced themselves at his boxing bouts. They had liked him because he
played a fair game and "packed a winning wallop." If any of them were
near they would come to his aid.

Drawing a long breath, he let forth a piercing scream that rose and fell
like the wail of a fire siren. At the same time he jabbed fiercely with