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Rh in captivity it could be none other than Miller, for the conversation he had just overheard left him in no doubt that Drew had instigated the assault. Miller was lying bound and helpless somewhere near, and he must contrive somehow to reach him.

But the first voice was speaking again.

"There's nothing the matter with him just now except that he's fighting mad. He'll cool down by the time we turn him loose; but I tell you, Tony, I wish this job was through."

"What's eatin' yer?" demanded the one called Tony. "Pretty soft, I call it; five hundred cold iron men for a week's vacation and no come-back! De main guy is a prince about coughin' up, if he is a bum sport."

"I don't like it," the other insisted. "It's out of our line for one thing, and I never switched yet without changing my luck. It's one game to stick up a drunk for his roll and beat it; but kidnapping two of them, and dicks at that, don't look so good to me now that I've had time to think it over. Besides, what do we know of this fellow? What if he gets pinched and squeals on us?"

"Squeal nothin'!" ejaculated Tony disgustedly. "I t'ought yer was a live one, Pete. Dat guy Sims don't pick no squealers for his. Let's go out an' stretch our pins."

"Suppose this patient of yours wakes up?" Pete's tone was doubtful. "You haven't even got him tied."

"Aw, h—l! Ain't I tellin' youse he's out for de count? C'm on."

A chair rasped against bare boards, and two pairs of feet clumped noisily away, but not beyond earshot for their footsteps; and the low rumble of their conversation still