lifted out a gray seal, and laid it lightly on the inside edge of his
left-hand sleeve. He replaced the metal case with his right hand, and
with his right hand drew his automatic from his pocket. He crept forward
again, inch by inch toward the door of the inner room.

Old Jake laid the pendant on the table, and from some mysterious recess
in his clothing pulled out a huge roll of banknotes.

"I'll make it three and a half until I see what I can get for it. That's
all I've got here, anyway." He began to count the money, laying it bill
by bill on the table. "If I get more than seven, I'll split the
difference even. That's fair. That's the way it's been ever since we
started this. I don't know exactly what I can get for this, and--"

And then Jimmie Dale was in the room, his automatic covering the two
men.

"Don't move please, gentlemen!" he said quietly, as he stepped to the
table. His eyes behind the mask travelled from the diamond pendant to
the pile of banknotes, and from the banknotes to the two men, whose
faces had gone suddenly white, and who now sat rigidly in their chairs,
as though turned to stone. "I appear to be in luck to-night!" His lips,
just showing beneath the mask, parted in a hard smile. "I was passing
by, and--" His left hand reached out, swept up the money and the diamond
pendant--and in their place, fluttering from his sleeve, a gray seal
fell upon the table.

There was a sharp, quick cry from Thorold--and the muzzle of Jimmie
Dale's automatic swung like a flash to a level with the man's eyes. Old
Jake had crumpled up now in his chair, and was glaring wildly at the