His, Jimmie Dale's, immediate business was with English Dick,
and he was quite content to leave Reddy Mull to the later ministrations
of the police.
Jimmie Dale's fingers tested the mechanism of his automatic in the
darkness. Whose was the master brain behind all this? This crime
to-night bore glaring evidence to the work of some far-flung, intricate
and powerful organisation--the Tocsin was indubitably right in that. Was
this the first concrete expression he had had of that undercurrent he
had sensed of late as permeating the underworld, that he had sensed was
reaching out as one of its objects for _him_ and that--
He came suddenly without a sound to his feet, and pressed back close
against the wall, his body rigid and thrown forward like one poised to
spring. There was a footstep outside the door, the rasp of a key in the
lock, then a faint, murky path of light as the door opened, and a man
stepped forward over the threshold. The key was inserted with another
rasping sound in the inner side of the lock, the door closed, the key
turned and was withdrawn, thrust evidently into its possessor's
pocket--and then Jimmie Dale, silently, in a lightning flash, was upon
the other, his hand at the man's throat, the cold, round muzzle of his
automatic against the other's face.
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