Doctor Guelpa gazed again at Patsy. His ferocity had vanished, but there now was a gleam in his eyes that was thrice more threatening. He paused for a moment with brows darkly knit, then said abruptly: “You may be right, Draper. Watch the whelp. I’ll fix him.” “I’ll watch him, all right,” returned Draper, with a warning scowl. “Gee! I’m in wrong now, for fair,” thought Patsy, thoroughly disgusted with the turn of the situation. “Fix me, eh? I wonder what’s coming. The infernal rascal has something up his sleeve. Infernal rascal is right, too, and I wish I had phoned the chief before butting in here.” Doctor Guelpa had approached a wall cabinet directly behind Patsy, who could not then see what the physician was doing. He had opened the cabinet and taken from it a small vial and graduated glasses, into which he was pouring a quantity of brown fluid. Having obtained the desired quantity, he transferred it from the glass, into a hypodermic syringe, the needle of which he carefully inspected. Patsy waited a bit apprehensive all the while. Draper watched him as a cat watches a mouse. Doctor Guelpa closed the cabinet, then turned again toward Patsy. “I don’t feel sure you are telling the truth, Garvan,” he said, with affected uncertainty. “If I did, I would be willing to meet you halfway and discuss this matter----” “But I’m giving it to you straight,” Patsy insisted, interrupting. “Nick doesn’t suspect you.” “Doesn’t he?” “He does not, Doctor Guelpa, on the level. He has not even thought of you in connection with the robbery.” “Before he does, then, I’ll make sure to get him and put him away. That can be done--as easily as this.” Standing with the syringe concealed in one hand, Guelpa suddenly bowed and threw his arm around Patsy’s head, at the same time thrust the needle into his neck. Patsy vented a growl and began to struggle, despite that Draper clapped the muzzle of the revolver against his breast. The injection so quickly administered was a powerful one, however, and acted instantly. It sent a tingling sensation through Patsy’s veins. His strength deserted him, seeming to fly out through his toes and fingers. He tried to shout for help, but his tongue was palsied. Only a hollow gurgle came from his twitching lips. Then, for it was all over in ten seconds, the light vanished, Guelpa’s half-smothered imprecations turned to silence, the grasp of merciless hands no longer could be felt, and Patsy lapsed into the realm of utter oblivion and was lowered to the floor, as limp and ghastly as if life had left him. Doctor Guelpa straightened up and laid aside the syringe, while Draper thrust the revolver into his pocket. “Easily done, doc, is right,” he said, grinning. “This was the only way. The meddlesome rat must have picked up a thread of some kind that led him here. There was nothing for us but to dispose of him before he could hand his information to others.”