shifted an automatic revolver into the coat pocket from the
discarded garment.

"Now, Mr. Shirley, come this way. Follow the rear area-way,
across to the next yard, where after another climb you find a
vacant lot where the Schuylers are preparing to erect their new
city house. Will you attend to everything?"

"Everything. I'll start sooner than you expect."

Truly he did! For no sooner had he descended the second fence
into the empty lot than a stinging blow sent him at full length
on the rocky ground, where the excavations were already being
started. Two men pounced upon him in a twinkling--only his great
strength, acquired through the football years, saved him from
immediate defeat. His head throbbed, and he was dizzy as he
caught the wrist of the nearest assailant with a quick twist
which resulted in a sudden, sickening crunch. The man groaned in
agony, but his companion kicked with heavy-shod feet at the
prostrate man. Shirley's left hand duplicated the vice-like grip
upon the ankle of the standing assailant, and his deftness caused
another tendon strain! Both men toppled to the ground, now, and
before they realized it Shirley had reversed the advantage. His
automatic emphasized his superiority of tactics. He understood
their silence, broken only by muted groans: they feared the
police, even as did he, although for different reasons. He
"frisked" the man nearest him upon the ground, and captured
deftly the rascal's weapon: then he sprang up covering the twain.

"Get up! Youse guys is poachin' in de wrong district--dis belongs