ood, I arrest you for the murder of Sir Frank
Bulkeley, Bart., and I warn you that anything you may say will be used
in evidence against you. Clarkson, stop playing with that tape and
handcuff the prisoner. (Clarkson _does so._)

_Gerald_ (_aside_). Good business! That saves _my_ neck.

_Violet._ But, my dear good soul.... However, I suppose it's no use to
say anything. Reggie, I can never marry you now.

_Reggie._ You couldn't in any case, my dear, because I haven't got any
money.

_Violet._ You forget that you are sole heir to Sir Frank there, who had
fourteen thousand a year. _I_ thought of that at once.

_Reggie._ Columbus! So I am. Well, that _is_ a dashed nuisance.

_Gerald_ (_coming forward nobly_). My dear, dear friends, I cannot allow
your happiness to be wrecked in this way. I killed Sir Frank! You can be
married now.

_Reggie._ Good egg! (_Embraces_ Violet.)

_Inspector._ Gerald Maristowe, I arrest you for the murder of Sir Frank
Bulkeley, Bart., and I warn you that anything you may say will be used
in evidence against you.

_Violet._ Oh, we must save him. What can we do?

_Clarkson._ Lady, do you remember years ago giving sixpence to a
starving boy in Peckham Rye?

_Violet._ Yes.

_Clarkson._ _I_ am--that is, _was_--that boy. I will save your friend.
Inspector, you know that a reward of L10,000 is offered for the capture
of the anarchist Mazzio?

_Inspector._ Yes. I wish to heaven I could lay my hands on him.

_Clarkson._ I can tell you how to do so.

_Inspector._ How?

_Clarkson_ (_dramatically tearing off his wig and false moustache_). I
am Mazzio! (_Turning to_ Gerald _and the others_) I shall struggle
violently. While he is engaged in arresting me, you can make good your
escape.

_Inspector._ Ha! Do you think I can be so easily baffled? (_Picking up
telephone receiver._) There are other police in the neighbourhood.

_Violet._ Not so. (_Slashes through the telephone cord with a knife_).

_Gerald._ Bravo!

_Inspector._ Oh, well, never mind. (_Puts his head out of the window and
blows a police whistle. The others look at one another in
consternation._) _Now_ I think I am master of the situation.

_Clarkson._ Foiled! All the same, you are less fortunate than you
imagine. When I said I was Mazzio, I lied.

_Inspector._ Prove it.

_Clarkson._ Easily. Mazzio has a scar on his left forearm. (_Rolling up
sleeve._) I have none.

_Inspector._ Oh, well, never mind. I can now proceed w