"A terrific fight ensues. Bill surpasses anything he has ever done in the ring, and it goes on until at last you collapse. Bill escapes, leaving you for dead. Do you catch the idea?" "Pretty well," said Percy. [Illustration: "IT IS YOURSELF _VERSUS_ THE POLICE."] "Now Bill goes straight away to the police office and states that you have murdered his uncle. When you come to, you are surrounded by about twenty members of the police force, the chief of whom slips the handcuffs over your wrists. With one wrench you snap the chain and are free!" "With _one_ wrench?" asked Percy, to be sure he was getting the details correctly. "With one wrench. Then ensues another big struggle. This time it is yourself _versus_ the police." "The twenty?" "Quite right. After some time you show signs of weakening, and the police look like getting the upper hand." "Ah!" remarked Percy. "But just then Mignon, the old man's daughter, emerges from behind a screen. She tells the police the facts and proclaims your absolute innocence." "Good!" said Percy. [Illustration: "YOU ARE SEEN FALLING, FALLING, FALLING."] "The chief of the police thereupon shakes you by the hand and apologises. You indicate that it will now be your life's work to bring the assassin, Bill, to justice, and then you quit. I should mention that before leaving you fall in love with Mignon, and promise that on your return you'll marry her at once. That parting scene will want a bit of acting. Your countenance must show successive degrees of pain, as if you had eaten something that was disagreeing with your digestion; and you mustn't omit the most effective suffering expression of all--chin raised, mouth open, eyelids closed tightly--just as if you were about to sneeze. You'll find your experience on the stage quite useful, you know." "Oh, quite, quite," agreed Percy. "Now you are out in the street. You seize the first motor-car at hand, and start off on the grand hunt after Bill. Through the crowded streets, out into the country highway, you fly at a terrific speed. Up the mountain passes you race, down precipitous slopes with every-increasing momentum. Every moment, it seems, will be your last. But you come safely through." "Certainly," said Percy. "That is to say--almost. Unfortunately, in turning a sharp corner, the car plunges into the waters of a rapid mountain torrent!" "Dear, dear!" said Percy. "But you come safely through--" Percy heaved a sigh of relief. [Illustration: "YOU FOLLOW HIM."]