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That was the detective’s final comment. Lucius Zurick, like Guy Laverock and Harbrook Kent, had become concerned with the funds that lay intact within the coffer. Zane Dolger, still half stunned by all that occurred, was staring helplessly.

Only Rowland was standing by. A change had come over his face. His thin lips formed a smile. Within the brain behind Rowland’s face, a single thought was uppermost. That was the final statement that Ed Mallan had made: that crooks like Hoot and Greasy will sell out to the highest bidder.

That statement had referred to the past. Mallan’s impressions had stopped there. But that which had held in the past might hold in the future, also!

CHAPTER XX. THE LAST RECKONING

THREE chuckling men. Such were the philanthropists as they fumbled the wealth within the iron coffer.

Zane Dolger watched them. He saw the glitter of their signets. Again, he realized that these were the other holders of the rings that Philip Lyken had prepared at his grandfather’s order.

They were men of Phraytag’s ilk. That thought came suddenly to Zane. Stunned by the revelation that his cousin Perry was a self-confessed crook, Zane had forgotten all else. But Perry belonged to the past.

This was the present. These three invaders, through their tool — Ed Mallan — had dealt with crooks.

It was not justice, to Zane’s belief, this regaining of the wealth in the coffer. It was a double cross.

Crooks against crooks. True that Perry had delivered murder and had lulled Zane with the belief that hidden enemies were in back of the deaths. But did that clear the philanthropists?

No! Zane eyed the gloating men who wore the signets. They were chuckling over their recovery of wealth that had been his grandfather’s. Perry — dealing in treachery — had wanted that pelf for himself.

Perry had been double-crossed. But Zane thought of himself. He had played on the level. The funds were still here, in his own house. The philanthropists — not he — were in the wrong.

Coming to action, Zane thrust a hand to a pocket of his coat. He was about to pull his revolver, ready to battle with these enemies. Counting on Rowland’s support in the pinch, the young heir was as determined as he had been in his situation on the night preceding. He was about to cover the philanthropists. His gun was coming into view.

“Lay off!” came a growl.

Zane’s fingers opened. The revolver dropped back into his pocket. He had forgotten Ed Mallan. The philanthropists had turned their full concern to the funds in the coffer; but the dick had kept his eyes open.

He had acted more swiftly than Zane. The heir was staring into the mouth of the detective’s gat.

Zane’s hands came up. His eyes turned toward Rowland. The servant was standing helplessly, near the door to the little windowless room in the corner of the library. Zane saw no help from Rowland.

The philanthropists raised their heads. They arose from the coffer. Their guns came into view. Backing Mallan, they let the detective speak. Mallan was emphatic when he addressed Zane Dolger.

“YOU’RE in luck, guy,” growled the dick. “I had you figured as a pal of that phony cousin of yours. But it looks like he was double-crossing you. So that lets you out — if you don’t make trouble.

“These gents” — Mallan waved toward the philanthropists — “are taking this box out with them. Get that?

And you’re going to let them do it. There’s a lot of dough here; it don’t matter how they got it. Wherever they put it, the stuff is theirs.

“When they’ve moved out, I’m staying here. Keeping you on good behavior, little Fauntleroy. This flunky of yours, too. Then, when I get a call from my bosses — when they tell me that they’ve tucked the dough away — then I’ll let you off. After you promise to stay good. Get it?”

“This is robbery!” exclaimed Zane. “You are crooks — the lot of you. I am in my home. You have entered unlawfully. The contents of that box are mine by possession. You are here in a criminal capacity— all of you!”

Zane’s voce had risen almost to a shout when he finished. The heir was staring squarely at Mallan and the philanthropists. The detective chuckled.

“Maybe we are busting the law right now,” admitted Mallan. “But we won’t be, after we’re out of this house. And who’s going to find us while we’re here?”

Zane’s sober face suddenly displayed a broad grin. Mallan stared. He noted that Zane was looking past him. The detective wheeled. His gun arm dropped.

The philanthropists turned; like Mallan, they lowered their revolvers.

Standing just within the doorway was Detective Joe Cardona. The acting inspector was holding a leveled revolver. With him was detective Sergeant Markham, also ready with a weapon. Entering the house, these exponents of the law had heard sounds in the library.

“A NEW game, eh?” quizzed Joe, as he motioned with his left hand. Mallan and the philanthropists dropped their weapons to the floor. “So that’s why you wanted to get in here, eh, Mallan? I wondered about you when you nosed down to headquarters. Knew you were coming up here; thought I’d drop in later on and find out what you were trying to pull.

“I didn’t figure you for rough stuff. I had a hunch you might be going to pull some flimflam on the Dolger boys. That was all. So Markham and I strolled in; and this is what we found. You and these three” — Cardona paused to study the philanthropists — “well, they don’t look any too good to me.”

Joe motioned with his gun. He backed the philanthropists up against the wall, along with Ed Mallan.

Then, without turning his vigilance from the prisoners, Joe put a question to Zane Dolger.

“Where’s your cousin?” questioned the sleuth. “They didn’t get him, did they?”

“Yes,” blurted Zane, “but he deserved it! I’ll tell you the story, Cardona. My cousin Perry was a crook. He killed Lyken and Phraytag. He admitted it tonight. He had crooks with him — Hoot Shelling and Greasy Karn — and after the murders, Perry stole a signet ring from the body of Elwood Phraytag. After the corpse was in the mausoleum.

“A signet like those three” — Zane motioned toward the hands of the philanthropists — “and it told us the hiding place of my grandfather’s lost millions. I didn’t know that Perry was a crook. I helped him get that coffer, with all the wealth that it contains. We hid it here, in the house.

“Perry sent those crooks here last night. Steve Lagrin and the other two gorillas. They came to murder me, but they failed. Tonight, Mallan brought these three men with him and made Rowland tell where the coffer was hidden. Then Hoot and Greasy showed up with their mob.”

“To help your cousin?” demanded Joe.

“Yes.” It was Mallan who growled the answer. “But they took Perry Dolger away. Shipping him to France, where he’s wanted for murder.”

“They turned against him?” Cardona’s voice way incredulous.

“Sure!” chuckled Mallan. “I bought them out! But it looks like I bungled” —the dick’s voice became sour — “when it came to the finish. Well, it’s just a bad break, your coming in here, Joe.”

“Not at all.” It was Lucius Zurick who spoke, in his dry chuckle. “After all, this young man — Zane Dolger — is honest. Therefore, it is fortunate that the law has intervened. Had you come sooner” — this to Cardona — “I should have let you take Perry Dolger; and it might have been possible to capture the mobsters as well. But circumstances forced us to let Hoot and Greasy depart.

“Allow me” — gingerly, the old philanthropist drew back his coat lapel and plucked a folded paper from his inside pocket — “to show this document to Zane Dolger. I intended to produce it later; my interest in the recovery of the coffer forced me to postpone that task.”