Again fortune favored him and when a nearby clock pointed its hands to a
quarter of twelve he had just one needle case left. He rang the door
bell of a residence, and as if luck was with him, the lady of the house,
a matron with snowy hair and features which in every line bespoke the
kind-heartness of her soul, opened the door. After he had explained to
her his errand, she took the needle case out of his hand and then told
him to await her return as she had left her pocket book in her bed room
upon the second floor of her home. She went, leaving the front door
ajar.

Jim heard the lady of the house mount the stairway, then the second
flight, now she was walking towards the rear of the building, and when
he heard a door slam, indicating that she had entered the bed room, like
a flash of lightning an evil thought shot through his mind. It was just
one step to the open parlor door. He craned his head, and looked into
the parlor, and when he saw that the shades were drawn, which would
prevent his being seen from the outside, he thought that this would be a
fine chance to show to Kansas Shorty, Danny and all the rest of his
"friends" how well he had learned their lessons.

Without the least hesitation he stepped into the semi-darkness of the
parlor, where his eyes were attracted by the gleaming steel of a large
caliber revolver lying upon the center table. He heard the lady's
footfalls as she descended from the second flight of stairs, and quickly
reaching out his hand he picked up the pistol and slipped it into his
pocket. He then turned about, to quietly take his former place before
the front door, but just as he turned, he felt a pair of hands grip him
from behind by the throat. He struggled hard to free himself from the
ever tightening grip, and then lost consciousness.