"What's the idea?
I want Harry, I tell you." "Harry ain't here." "Just hand me that piece of paper over there, and I'll write out the message," said Ronicky, pointing to the little table just beyond the doorman.

The latter turned with a growl, and the moment he was halfway around Ronicky Doone sprang in.

His right arm fastened around the head of the unlucky warder and, passing down to his throat, crushed it in a strangle hold.

His other hand, darting out in strong precision, caught the right arm of the warder at the wrist and jerked it back between his shoulders.

In an instant he was effectively gagged and bound by those two movements, and Ronicky Doone, pausing for an instant to make sure of himself, heard footsteps in the hall above.
It was too late to do what he had hoped, yet he must take his prize out of the way.