shaky laugh of yours. What the deuce is the amusement, Basil?
Here we are, all three of us, within a yard of a den of
ruffians--"

"But I shouldn't call the police," said Basil. "We four heroes
are quite equal to a host," and he continued to quake with his
mysterious mirth.

Rupert turned with impatience and strode swiftly down the court,
the rest of us following. When he reached the door of No. 14 he
turned abruptly, the revolver glittering in his hand.

"Stand close," he said in the voice of a commander. "The scoundrel
may be attempting an escape at this moment. We must fling open the
door and rush in."

The four of us cowered instantly under the archway, rigid, except
for the old judge and his convulsion of merriment.

"Now," hissed Rupert Grant, turning his pale face and burning eyes
suddenly over his shoulder, "when I say `Four', follow me with a
rush. If I say `Hold him', pin the fellows down, whoever they are.
If I say `Stop', stop. I shall say that if there are more than
three. If they attack us I shall empty my revolver on them. Basil,
have your sword-stick ready. Now--one, two three, four!"

With the sound of the word the door burst open, and we fell into
the room like an invasion, only to stop dead.

The room, which was an ordinary and neatly appointed office,