He was a bit late. The steamer had already swung to, broadside, alongside the long landing stage, and just as Mr. Watts, in a great hurry, reached the rail, the gangway went out. But before the first eager shoregoer could start down it, a square-jawed, stockily-built man, with short side whiskers, came briskly up it from the other end. He spoke ten words to the first officer, and the first officer, escorting him, bored back through the press to the foyer, explaining the situation in crisp sentences, as he made a path for the newcomer to the spot where Bronston, with his legs braced, was jamming the blasphemous and struggling Keller into an angle of the cabin wall. For Keller had once more grown violent. At sight of this the square-jawed man jumped forward to lend a hand. "Inspector Drew, from Scotland Yard," he said, by way of introduction for himself as he grabbed for one of Keller's flailing legs. "All right, inspector," answered Bronston, between hard-set teeth. "I'm glad to see you. I'm having trouble handling our man." "So I see," said Drew, "but we'll cure that in a jiffy." He cured it by the expedient of throwing the whole weight of his body upon Keller. Together he and Bronston pressed the captive flat and helpless against the woodwork. "The boat train is waiting," panted Drew in Bronston's ear. "Shall we get our man aboard?" "I'm not going on any train!" snorted Keller, his voice rising to an agonised shriek. "Oh, yes, but you are, me beauty!" said the inspector. "Get him by the other arm," he told Bronston. "I'll take care of him on this side." Propelled by an irresistible force, held fast by strong grips upon his coat-collar and his elbows, shoved along, while his feet dragged and scuffled under him and his pinioned hands waggled the air impotently, hurried on so fast that his profane sputterings gurgled and died in his throat--thus and after such a fashion did the hapless, helpless Keller travel across the deck and through the crowd, which parted before him and closed in behind; thus did he progress, without halt, across the landing dock, on past the stand of the customs office and out at the other side of the dock, where, upon tracks that ran along the quay, a train stood with steam up. Bodily he was flung in at an open coach door; roughly he was spun about and deposited like a sack of oats upon the seat of a compartment, and Inspector Drew, gasping for breath but triumphant, shoved a knee into his heaving chest to keep him there. "Whew, that was a job!" puffed Bronston, releasing his grasp of their still feebly struggling charge. "Inspector, can you keep him where he is for just a minute or two? I'll see to it that the baggage is brought here." "I can keep the gentleman quiet," said Drew, mending his grip and shoving down hard upon the wriggling human cushion beneath him.