They made their way to the head of the stairs, smashed through another door, flashed their torches, found the light switch and turned it. The big room was bathed in light.
Sheriff Kowen smiled grimly as he surveyed the scene. He saw faro and roulette layouts, poker tables, almost every gambling device known. Some two score of men in evening dress were crouching against the walls. A glance was enough to tell the sheriff the customers and the dealers. He slapped his hands together.
"Round 'em up!" he ordered.
His deputies sprang to obey. One by one, the men in the room were manacled, despite their protests. When Sheriff Kowen raided a gambling house, he did not do things by halves.
A crowd had collected in the street by now. The automobiles Kowen had ordered were before the house, ready to receive their loads of prisoners. Kowen received reports from deputies who had searched the place from cellar to garret. He detailed men to guard the house and the gambling apparatus it contained, and then the parade began.
The parade was always a big moment with Kowen. He stood at the curb and watched the prisoners pass him and go to the automobiles. He enjoyed the looks of wrath, of fear in the faces of these callow youths. Some of them he knew, but a very few. For the most part, the prisoners seemed to be strangers to him, but that did not bother Kowen. The city was a large one; a new crop of victims appeared every week, the sheriff knew.
The prisoners were driven to the county jail and taken into the office. Kowen informed them as to
