The on-rushing maniac was half stopped and twisted in his course. His head swung sideways and outward with the last impact upon the jaw; his legs failed to lift, and with a wabbling, shuddering tremor the body sank to the water's edge. The next instant Hallen came tumbling on to the murderer. I heard the click of handcuffs; I saw the white shirt and black trousers of Elliott squirm up the bank, and next moment the vigorous swimmer, the aristocratic, great-hearted club-man, caught Oakes in his arms as the detective lurched forward and fell, momentarily overcome by his last supreme effort. A great, rousing cheer reverberated from bank to bank. We took it up, and sent it back in lessened volume, but undiminished spirit. They now came back from the other side of the pond by the way of the north end, the men assisting Oakes carefully up the incline to us, and bringing also Maloney. His eyes were bloodshot--his features squirming in horrible movements; and through it all he talked and talked; his brain was working with great rapidity; he was shouting, declaiming, laughing, and all the while his sentences were without significance, without lucidity. Oakes pointed to the maniac. "I regret extremely," he said, "that I was forced to wound him slightly. I could not let him escape with that weapon in his hand." An approving murmur rose from the men, but Oakes checked them, frowning his displeasure. Then he turned to Martin: "Look at his left arm, boys." Hallen and Martin ripped off the sleeve, and Dowd, after peering at the arm, excitedly exclaimed: "The blue cross! Quintus Oakes, you are right." Yes, surely, there on the left arm, just below the shoulder, was a cross done by some skilled tattooer's hand in days long past--a cross of indigo. * * * * * Then in the road a team appeared from the Mansion, and Dowd jumped in and waved his hand as he started. "Where are you going?" cried Hallen. "To Mona to get out an extra--to tell how Clark, Mr. Clark of the Mansion, has captured the murderer, aided by Hallen of Mona." As the team started, Dowd yelled back again: "And I am going to tell Mona that Clark is QUINTUS OAKES." Hallen waved his arms, while we all again cheered the name of our friend, as we bore him in triumph back to the Mansion. _CHAPTER XXV_ _The Man of the Hour_ Soon we heard the tones of a bell from far away--one, two, three--then a pause, then a few quick strokes, followed by a low, single deep note. Hallen answered our looks of astonishment. "That's the old bell of headquarters. The Mayor promised to ring it, day or night, when the mystery was solved, and Dowd has carried the news." Then again came the deep tones in quicker rhythm, and we knew it was all the old bell could do in the way of joy. We scarce had time to congratulate Oakes on the splendid termination of his work before Hallen was away with his men, taking Maloney to town by a roundabout way.