Jimmy's swift, keen glance took in the two men, their uniforms, their badges, their features, their shoes. He paid special attention to their shoes. He murmured softly to Matthews: "Good hunch of yours, Jack. Get set, they're not policemen." Matthews slid his lanky length between Professor Brierly and the uniformed men. He interrupted their spokesman: "What's this about, what do you want Professor Brierly for?" The other looked at him insolently. "I said, we want Professor Brierly, young feller." "Yes, I heard that; I asked what you want him for." "Well, if you want to know, he's under arrest." "I'm still curious to know all about it," quietly said Matthews. "What's he under arrest for?" "Listen, young feller, we was ordered to bring him in, see? And we're gonna bring him in. Now we don't want no trouble. If he comes along with us quiet like--" Matthews' body had by this time edged the tiny form of Professor Brierly several feet away. Matthew's large form was now squarely between that of the little scientist and the two policemen. Jack interrupted: "You don't want trouble, do you? Well, I do. I want trouble. I'm just aching and pining for trouble. If you don't want trouble you know how to avoid it. Go 'way and don't bother us--" The other policeman was circling the pair. Jimmy interrupted at this point. Jimmy was talking in a soft low drawl. Those who knew Jimmy Hale knew that he was never as dangerous--to others--as when he spoke that way. "Officer, this can be settled easily. You've got a warrant, of course. My friend," jerking his head toward Matthews, "is a little hot-headed. If you just show us the warrant, there won't be any trouble." Another man in uniform had been approaching the group from a car that was parked in the road near the edge of the field. As he came nearer, he called out: "Oh, what the hell's all this palaver about. Let's take him." He lunged for Professor Brierly, his hand outstretched. Matthews got into motion at the same time. The third policeman did not quite reach Professor Brierly. A hard, bony fist struck him about two inches above the belt buckle. He folded up, emitting a hoarse grunt, his bulging eyes mirroring acute pain. The mate to the first fist whipped up in a short vicious arc. The man's head snapped backward. His knees wilted; he fell to the ground slowly as a tree falls; he lay there quietly.