tted themselves to some extent with the supposed hawker,
and were as eager as Flash himself that he should be killed; still,
all felt that it was as well that it should be managed with the least
possible risk of discovery, for while an ordinary man could be put
out of the way without any trouble arising, the fact that he was a Bow
Street runner added enormously to the risk of the discovery of his fate.

There was a little talk, and then two of the men went out and brought
back a couple of strong ropes. A few minutes after their return Mark
Thorndyke came in. He paused as he entered the room, in surprise at the
silence that reigned, for he was accustomed to be greeted with friendly
exclamations. However, as he walked in the door closed, and then
suddenly, with shouts of "Down with the spy!" the men sprang from their
seats and made a sudden rush at him. For a minute the struggle was
tremendous; man after man went down under Mark's blows, others clung
onto him from behind, a rope was passed round his legs and pulled, and
he fell down with a crash, bringing down five or six of his assailants;
a minute later he was gagged and bound.

While the struggle was going on no one noticed that a Lascar's face was
pressed against the window; it disappeared as soon as Mark fell, and
ten minutes later a dark faced sailor ran into Gibbons'; it was a quiet
evening at Ingleston's, and Gibbons, after smoking a pipe with half a
dozen of the pugilists, had just returned.

"Hallo," he said, as he opened the door, "what the deuce do you want?"

The man was for a moment too breathless to answer.

"You know Mr. Thorndyke," he said at last, in very fair English.

"Yes, I know him. Well, what of him?"

"He has been attacked by a number of thieves in a public house near the
river, at Westminster, and he will be murdered unless you go with others
to help him."

"What the deuce was he doing there?" Gibbons muttered, and then, seizing
his cap, said to the Lascar,

"Come along with me; it aint likely that we shall be in time, but we
will try, anyhow."

He ran to Ingleston's.

"Come along, Ingleston," he exclaimed, "and all of you. You all know
Mr. Thorndyke. This man says he has been attacked by a gang down at
Westminster, and will be murdered. I am afraid we shan't be in time, but
it is worth trying."

The prize fighters all leaped to their feet. Mark had sparred with
several of them, and, being open handed and friendly, was generally
li