The proceedings were brief, for attempted murder offers no option of summary jurisdiction. Mecklen pleaded not guilty and declined to instruct a solicitor. Evidence of arrest was taken, to which the prisoner paid little attention. The verbal proceedings seemed not to interest him, but he studied his surroundings curiously. He did not cross-examine, and made no statement, and the whole business took no more than ten minutes. "Without a hitch," remarked Storm, in grim reminiscence of the formal Press account of executions--"thanks to the Army!" Mecklen was committed for trial, and, whilst the necessary papers were being made out and signed, he was taken to a cell in the adjoining police station. It was when they removed him and told him that he would be taken immediately to Brixton Prison that he showed his first sign of uneasiness. He asked if a message had come for him, and, when informed that none had arrived up to that time, he asked to be allowed to see a newspaper. On Storm's authority, the request was refused, and Mecklen was handcuffed and led out between a double rank of policemen. Teal went in front and Storm brought up the rear, and as the cortège came into view of the street Teal halted so suddenly that Storm trod on the prisoner's heels. Pushing his way to the front, Arden found the detective staring up and down the street with a ludicrously blank expression on his sanguine countenance. Storm looked also, and his lean face hardened. There was a cab rank in the road, and he went over at once and asked a question of one of the drivers. "About arf an hour ago," said the man. "Just after the man'd bin taken in. A cop comes out an 'ands a note to the orf'cer, an' walks away, an' then the orf'cer shouts _'Shun!_ an' off they goes." "Did you see the constable's face?" asked Storm, and the chauffeur scratched his head. "S'pose I must 'ave, but I didn't take much stock of it. You don't inspect every copper's dial wot yer sees--you'd get 'eart failure! Just looked an ord'nary pleeceman to me. 'Ulkin' great feller, oldish, walked as if 'e owned the earth--like they all do." "Thank you," said Storm bitterly, and returned to the waiting group on the station steps.