“There seems to be a little row on between the remaining members of the syndicate,” thought Nick. “Well, when thieves fall out honest men get their dues.”
“Why can’t we go up?” demanded one of the men. “We have been there before.”
“Not to-night,” said the attendant. “Take seats down here.”
The men hesitated. Then they saw that the people in the place were gathering about them with threatening looks, and took chairs at a table, the eight close together.
The crook who was sitting with Nick arose and moved up to the bar, where he stood whispering to the man in charge.
As he did so, Chick walked up to Nick as if to take an order.
“When the row begins,” he said, “go to the back end of the room. I’ll be there. We’ll go up by the private staircase. I know where to take you.”
Nick nodded, and Chick brought two glasses of wine and placed them on the table.
Before the crook returned to his chair, however, the rush was made. Nick saw the gang springing for the stairs, drawing their revolvers as they went, and made for the back of the room, where Chick awaited him.
There came a shot, and in an instant the lights were out. Then followed more shots on the stairs, and a police call sounded.