chambers of a revolver into the darkness about him, and then, alarmed by
a racket of pounding on the hall door, fled successfully by way of the
fire-escape to adjoining roofs and neighbouring back-yards.

By the time Whitaker was able to pull himself together and hobble to the
door, a brace of intelligent policemen who had been summoned by the
hall-boy were threatening to break it down. Admitted, they took his
safety into their care and, simultaneously, the revolver which he
incautiously admitted possessing. Later they departed, obviously
disgruntled by the unprofessional conduct of the "crook" who had left no
"clues," with a warning to the house-holder that he might expect to be
summoned to court, as soon as he was able to move, to answer for the
crime of keeping a weapon of defence.

Whitaker took to his bed in company with a black temper and the aroma of
arnica.

He entertained, the next day, several persons: reporters; a physician; a
futile, superfluous, unornamental creature misleadingly designated a
plain-clothes man; finally his friend (by now their acquaintance had
warmed to real friendship) Ember.

The retired investigator found Whitaker getting into his clothes: a
ceremony distinguished by some profanity and numerous grunts.

"Afternoon," he said, taking a chair and surveying the sufferer with
slightly masked amusement. "Having a good time?"

"You go to thunder!" said Whitaker in disgust.

"Glad to see you're not hurt much," pursued the other, unabashed.

Whitaker withered him with a glare. "I suppose it's nothing to have a
shoulder and arm black-and-blue to the elbow! a bump on the side of my
head as big as a hard-boiled egg! a bruised throat and an ankle next
door to sprained! Oh, no--I'm not much hurt!"

"You're lucky to be alive," observed Ember, exasperatingly philosophic.

"A lot you know about it!"

"I'm a canny little guesser," Ember admitted modestly.

"Where'd you get your information, then?"

Ember waved a non-committal hand. "I hear things...."

"Oh, yes--you know a lot. I suppose you could lay this thug by the heels
in a brace of shakes?"

"Just about," Ember admitted placidly. "I wouldn't mind trying."

"Then why don't you?" Whitaker demanded heatedly.

"I had a notion you wouldn't want me to."

Whitaker stared aggressively. "You mean ... Drummond?"

The answer was a nod.

"I don't believe it."

"You'll at all events do me the credit to recall that I warned you two
mon