match it one day yourself! Don't open the paper until I run on and say
'So long' to your partners. Good-by."

He grasped Demorest's hand and then dropped the little packet into his
palm, and ambled away towards Stacy and Barker. Holding the packet in
his hand with an amused yet puzzled smile, Demorest watched the gambler
give Stacy's hand a hearty farewell shake and a supplementary slap on
the back to the delighted Barker, and then vanish in a flash of red
sash and silver buttons. At which Demorest, walking slowly towards his
partners, opened the packet, and stood suddenly still. It contained the
dried and bloodless second finger of a human hand cut off at the first
joint!

For an instant he held it at arm's length, as if about to cast it away.
Then he grimly replaced it in the paper, put it carefully in his pocket,
and silently walked after his companions.




CHAPTER I


A strong southwester was beating against the windows and doors of
Stacy's Bank in San Francisco, and spreading a film of rain between the
regular splendors of its mahogany counters and sprucely dressed clerks
and the usual passing pedestrian. For Stacy's new banking-house had
long since received the epithet of "palatial" from an enthusiastic
local press fresh from the "opening" luncheon in its richly decorated
directors' rooms, and it was said that once a homely would-be depositor