opped out there at the curb and I got down and opened the
door, there wasn't nobody in the wagon but Mr. Simmonds. I spoke to
him and he didn't answer--and then I touched him and he kind of fell
over--and then I rushed in here and 'phoned the station; but they
said you'd already started for the bank; and then we went out and
brought him in here--and that's all I know, sir."

"You didn't hear anything--no sound of a struggle?"

"Not a sound, sir; not a single sound."

"And you haven't any idea where the other man got out?"

"No, sir."

"Mr. Simmonds had a little valise with him--did you notice it?"

"Yes, sir; and I looked for it in the wagon, but it ain't there."

Grady turned away with a curse as four or five men ran in from the
street--the men from headquarters, I told myself. I could hear him
talking to them in sharp, low tones, and then they departed as
suddenly as they had come. The reserves also hurried away, and I
concluded that Grady was trying to throw a net about the territory in
which the fugitive was probably concealed; but my interest in that
manoeuvre was overshadowed, for the time being, by my anxiety for
Simmonds. I picked up his right hand and looked at it; then I drew a
deep breath of relief, for it was uninjured.

"Has anyone sent for a doctor?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," one of the bank attaches answered. "We telephoned for one
at once--here he is, now!" he added, as a little black-bearded man
entered, carry the inevitably-identifying medicine case.

The newcomer glanced at the body, waved us back, fell on one knee,
stripped away the clothing from the breast and applied his ear to the
heart. Then he looked into the staring eyes, drew down the lids,
watched them snap up again, and then hastily opened his case.

"Let's have some water," he said.

"Then he's not dead?" I questioned, as one of the clerks sprang to
obey.

"Dead? No; but he's had a taste or whiff of something that has
stopped the heart action."

With a queer, creepy feeling over my scalp, I remembered the little
flask half-full of blood-red liquid which Crochard carried in his
pocket.

But he had not meant murder this time; I remembered that Godfrey had
said he never killed an adversary. The doctor worked briskly away,
and, at the end of a few minutes, Simmonds's eyes suddenly closed, he
drew a long breath, and sat erect. Then his eyes opened, and he sat
swaying unsteadily and staring amazedly about him.

"Best lie down aga