Ronicky Doone heard them approach the door of the girl's room, and he slipped into the closet.

At once a cloud of soft, cool silks brushed about him, and he worked back until his shoulders had touched the wall at the back of the closet.

Luckily the enclosure was deep, and the clothes were hanging thickly from the racks.

It was sufficient to conceal him from any careless searcher, but it would do no good if any one probed; and certainly these men were not the ones to search carelessly.
In the meantime it was a position which made Ronicky grind his teeth.
To be found skulking among woman's clothes in a closet--to be dragged out and stuck in the back, no doubt, like a rat, and thrown into the river, that was an end for Ronicky Doone indeed! He was on the verge of slipping out and making a mad break for the door of the house and trying to escape by taking the men by surprise, when he heard the door of the girl's room open.
"Some ex-pugilist," he heard a man's voice saying, and he recognized it at once as belonging to him who had given the orders.

He recognized, also, that it must be the man with the sneer.
"You think he was an amateur robber and an expert prize fighter ?" asked Ruth Tolliver.
It seemed to Ronicky Doone that her voice was perfectly controlled and calm.