The game of chance is played by all—
The rich, the poor, the great, the small;
Fate\'s hand the wheel of fortune drives,
And marks the epoch of our lives.

The street was one of the shortest in the city, extending only the one block from Broadway to the Bowery, and the house itself was plain, dark and unattractive, but Sam Lee led the way with an ease that betokened much familiarity with the neighborhood.

Sir Frederic had thought it best to enlist the services of a detective and now the four men entered the narrow hall and ascended a flight of stairs as noiselessly as possible.

Sam Lee was still ahead, and arriving at the[Pg 195] door above, he gave three short, sharp raps, following these with a peculiar double knock that could hardly be mistaken if once heard. Evidently the signal was so well given that the wary watchman within did not doubt the friendship of the executor and neglected to open the wicket as was his usual custom before admitting any one. Instead, he opened the door a tiny bit while he put his eye cautiously to the crack, but before he could get a satisfactory glimpse of the new comers, Sam Lee\'s heavy, cork soled shoe was forced into the narrow opening and four stalwart, determined shoulders were braced against the door with a force that sent the careless watchman spinning backward across the dimly lighted passage.

There were seven or eight men in the inner room when they entered, but in less time than it takes to tell they had all disappeared but one, and he, too, would have vanished had not Sam Lee darted into his very arms and screamed like a parrot in his unintelligible gibberish. As quick as flash, Sir Frederic and the detective grasped the rambler\'s arms, but after the first wild rush, he made no attempt to escape but stood silently[Pg 196] before them as if surprised, but in no way alarmed, at their somewhat extraordinary proceedings.

"This can not be the man," said Sir Frederic, doubtfully.

"Yes! Yes! Me know him!" yelled Sam Lee, over and over, while he held to the victim\'s coat tails with a grasp of vengeance.

"We will soon see," said the detective, grimly, as without ceremony he pulled both hat and hair from his prisoner\'s head.

With a movement as quick as lightning the man\'s hand flew back to his pistol pocket and in another moment the detective would, in all probability, have fallen, shot through the heart, had not Sam Lee, who was still holding fast to the coat observed the rapid movement and seized the would be murderer\'s arm with his wiry fingers. An awful struggle followed. As if knowing well it was his last chance for life and liberty, the man f............