In the darkness he saw a man approaching him, and he turned about, walking away in the opposite direction. But presently this person moved off towards the hotel, and he started again for the rendezvous with the detective. He had gone but a short distance before two men sprang upon him, one of them taking him in the rear, and hugging him so that he could not move his arms. He began a mighty struggle; but two more men came out of their hiding-place, and a pair of handcuffs were slipped upon his wrists. Then he attempted to call for assistance, but a handkerchief was promptly stuffed into his mouth, and the ruffians hurried him out through a narrow gateway to an unfrequented street, where a carriage appeared to be in waiting for them. "Drive to the beach back of Fort Montague," said one of them. It was the voice of Captain Flanger. CHAPTER XXI A QUESTION OF NEUTRALITY Even before he heard the voice of his savage enemy, Christy Passford realized that he had fallen into the hands of the commander of the Snapper. He was placed on the back seat of the carriage, with a pair of handcuffs on his wrists, and a handkerchief in his mouth to do duty as a gag. Captain Flanger was at his side, with two other men on the front seat, and one on the box with the driver. Against these four men he was powerless to make any resistance while he was in irons. The carriage was drawn by two horses, and was considerably larger than the ordinary victoria used in the town. It was quite dark, and though the streets were flanked with many houses, hardly a person appeared to be stirring at this hour. But a vehicle loaded down with the rough visitors of the place could not be an unusual sight, for they were the kind of people who were disposed to make the night hideous, as well as the day. Christy had struggled with all his might to shake off the ruffians who beset him, and two more had come out from their concealment when he thought he was making some progress in freeing himself from their grasp. As soon as his wrists were ironed he realized that resistance was useless, and that it could only increase his discomfort. It was a terrible calamity to have fallen into the power of a man so brutal and unscrupulous as Captain Flanger, bent upon revenging himself for the mutilation of his most prominent facial member. He was certainly disfigured for life, though the wound made by the ball from the revolver had healed; but it was an ill-looking member, and he appeared to be conscious of his facial deformity all the time.