“It's a thing which Melun himself never dares to do, and why should you? It's more than we can stand. I am talking about those girls the other night.”

Westerham was still smiling with his eyes hard and bright. “Perhaps,” he said, “you had better let me inform you that if I found the same state of things going on to-night I should interfere again.”

Some of the men stared in astonishment at his audacity. Crow's face went white with passion.

“Would you, my beauty? I don't think you would.”

Then in a flash he had drawn a six-shooter from his pocket and yelled “Hands up!”

Westerham laughed outright. Unless he should so lose control over himself as to act foolishly he knew that Crow would not fire. He had already told two men that they wanted no firing that night.

[Pg 130]

[Pg 130]

So, instead of putting his hands up, he folded them placidly on the table.

“Put that thing away,” he said quietly, “until you explain precisely what you intend to do.”

Crow lowered his weapon but kept it on the table. He even laughed a hard, short laugh.

“Well, you are a good plucked 'un at any rate,” he said, “and as your number's up, and dead men tell no tales, I don't see why I shouldn't oblige you.

“You think,” he continued, making an attempt to imitate Westerham's cool, off-hand way of speech, “that this is a working-man's club.

“Well, it is not exactly that. It is a club, sure enough, with pretty fixed rules—rules which, if broken, may result in a man's light being put out.

“The same may be said of anyone who offends us. You have offended us.

“Now, though Melun comes in through ‘The Cut,’ we come in the other way. No one in London except the members of this club know that there are two entrances. We come in by the main door, and that gives on to a path which runs by a handy canal.

“Shooting is noisy, and knives mean messy work. Strangling is just as simple and just as easy, and, with the clothes off you, and with 

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