Humberston Wright is enjoying a night on the town. He runs out of money and goes home to raid the purse of his wife, Blanche Forsythe. When she says no, he knocks her unconscious, takes the money and goes to get involved in a crooked game run by Hugh Nicolson and Maud Yates. Not only do they have the latest sharper's mechanical aids, she has a ring that squirts poison gas in the face of anyone who calls them cheats. When Wright wakes up the next morning, thoroughly hung over, they tell him that he killed that corpse, but they'll cover up for him if he goes in with them for a spot of bank robbing.
Meanwhile, Miss Forsythe eventually wakes up, decides that this is no place for her and, after some hardship, goes to work for Bertram Burleigh, the stalwart police inspector who's investigating the bank robbery. Eventually the robbers flee to their country home, which is liberally supplied with the usual amenities of sliding passages, a dungeon and a private laboratory.
Were this a continental melodrama or even Sax Rohmer, the villains would be intent on world domination. Here, being simple British villains, all they want is money, and they go about it with the usual minor flourishes. The acting is pleasantly restrained for such a pulpish plot and the print I looked at was in very good condition and pleasantly toned for about two thirds of its scenes -- only the daytime interiors were in black and white. It's not a great movie, nor even particularly good, but if you have a taste for this sort of cheap theatrics -- I certainly do -- it's a pleasant way to kill an hour.
