“What rot!”

Johnny got up and paced the floor.  Then, suddenly realizing that there was no longer cause for secrecy as to his whereabouts, he threw on the light and swung a punching bag down from the wall.

This ancient bit of leather, which had hung unused for many months, gave forth a volley of dust at first.  But soon it was sending resounding thwacks echoing down the hall from Johnny’s right and left punch.

Johnny even smiled as he sat down after a fifteen minutes round with this old friend.  He was greatly pleased at one thing; his left arm was now quite as good as his right.

As he sat there, still smiling, his eyes fell on that note which had been thrust under his door.  A strange, wild impulse seized him.

“So they know where I stay,” he muttered.  “I’ll see how near I can come to finding out where they are hiding.”

Taking the envelope containing the diamonds from his pocket, he crowded it down into the depths of his clothing; then, snapping off the light, he went out.

Hastening down the street and across the bridge, he was soon threading deserted streets and dark alleys.  In time he came out upon Bird place, a half street, ending in a wall.  The passage was narrow, hardly more than an alley.

The night was exceptionally dark and the place cheerless—­just the setting for a crime.  Lights behind drawn shutters were few.  Only the very wretched or very wicked haunted such habitations.

Hugging the wall, Johnny sidled along toward 316.  He knew the spot exactly, for though Johnny had never been of the underworld, he had spent many a restless night prowling about in all parts of the city.  Suddenly he flattened out in a doorway and stood motionless, breathing quietly.

Had he heard the faint pat-pat of footsteps?  Had he caught the dark blue of a shadow on yonder wall?  For a full three minutes he stood there; then hearing, seeing nothing more, he glided out and resumed his snake-like journey toward the door of 316.

This time he did not go far, for suddenly looming from dark doorways four huge forms sprang at him.  Johnny understood it all in a moment.  The note was but a trick.  They had not intended to trust him to leave the diamonds.  They did not live at 316 at all.  They merely had meant to draw him to this dark alley, then to “get” him.  Well, they would find him a tough nut to crack!

His right shot out, and a heavy bulk crashed to the pavement.  His left swung and missed.  A wild creature sprang at his throat.  Johnny’s mind worked like lightning.  Four were too many.  They would get him.  He must have help.  The cat cry of the underworld!  He had known that cry two years before.  He had many friends who would answer it.  They had introduced themselves at his boxing bouts.  They had liked him because he played a fair game and “packed a winning wallop.”  If any of them were near they would come to his aid.