A hard lean fist struck Robert Macklin’s body.  As he gasped and doubled up, clubbing his right fist to land the blow behind the ear of Ronicky Doone, the latter bent back, stepped in and, rising on the toes of both feet, whipped a perfect uppercut that, in ring parlance, rang the bell.

The result was that Robert Macklin, his mouth agape and his eyes dull, stood wobbling slowly from side to side.

“Here!” called Ronicky to his companion at the door.  “Grab him on one side, and I’ll take the other.  He’s out on his feet.  Get him to that chair.”  With Gregg’s assistance he dragged the bulk of the man there.  Macklin was still stunned.

Presently the dull eyes cleared and filled immediately with horror.  Big Robert Macklin sank limply back in the chair.

“I’ve no money,” he said.  “I swear I haven’t a cent in the place.  It’s in the bank, but if a check will—­”

“We don’t want your money this trip,” said Ronicky.  “We want talk, Macklin.  A lot of talk and a lot of true talk.  Understand?  It’s about that girl.  I saw you grin when you saw the picture; you remember her well enough.  Now start talking, and remember this, if you lie, I’ll come back here and find out and use this on you.”

The eyes of Robert Macklin started from his head, as his gaze concentrated on the black muzzle of the gun.  He moistened his white lips and managed to gasp:  “Everything I know, of course.  Ill tell you everything, word for word.  She—­she—­her name I mean—­”

“You’re doing fine,” said Ronicky.  “Keep it up, and you keep away, Bill.  When you come at him with that hungry look he thinks you’re going to eat him up.  Fire away, Macklin.”

“What first?”

“What’s she look like?”

“Soft brown hair, blue eyes, her mouth—­”

“Is a little big.  That’s all right.  You don’t have to be polite and lie.  We want the truth.  How big is she?”

“About five feet and five inches, must weigh around a hundred and thirty pounds.”

“You sure are an expert on the ladies, Macklin, and I’ll bet you didn’t miss her name?”

“Her name?”

“Don’t tell me you missed out on that!”

“No.  It was—­Just a minute!”

“Take your time.”

“Caroline.”

“Take your time now, Macklin, you’re doing fine.  Don’t get confused.  Get the last name right.  It’s the most important to us.”

“I have it, I’m sure.  The whole name is Caroline Smith.”

There was a groan from Ronicky Doone and another from Bill Gregg.

“That’s a fine name to use for trailing a person.  Did she say anything more, anything about where she expected to be living in New York?”

“I don’t remember any more,” said Macklin sullenly, for the spot where Ronicky’s fist landed on his jaw was beginning to ache.  “I didn’t sit down and have any chats with her.  She just spoke to me once in a while when I did something for her.  I suppose you fellows have some crooked work on hand for her?”