He warded off several heavy swings and gave Jean an upper cut on the mouth that split his lips open. The man recoiled, but Harry followed him up like a bull dog. He received a painful blow in the stomach, and caught Jean's foot as he aimed a swinging kick at the boy. Harry clung to the man's ankle. Giving it a jerk, he upset the Canadian's balance and Jean fell with a crash, and rolled over. He was just going to rise when the boy pounced on him, and a fierce struggle began for the mastery. Old King Brady would have gone to his pupil's aid had not the other wounded man drawn a pistol and opened fire on him. A bullet whistled past the old detective's head. He sprang at the man just as he was about to fire a second shot and grasping him by the wrist, turned the pistol aside. The ball was spent harmlessly in the air. Jabbering in French, the man made an effort to wrench the weapon free, but Old King Brady was too quick for him. He brought down his fist on the rascal's arm. The force of that blow was awful. It numbed the arm and the pistol fell from his nerveless fingers. The next moment Old King Brady's fist caught him on the nose, almost smashing that organ flat, and as the Canadian bit the dust, the detective landed on top of him like a tiger seizing its prey. "I've got you now!" exclaimed the old detective, fiercely. "Mercy!" groaned the man. "Roll over." "Yes--yes." "Place your hands behind your back." "Yes." "Now keep still, or I'll strangle you." Old King Brady tied the man with his handkerchief and rose. By the time he got upon his feet, Harry had overpowered Jean and had the bracelets on his wrists. "Victory!" chuckled the boy. "Four," said the old detective. "That ain't a bad haul!" "But the girl has escaped." "Never mind, Harry. We are well paid for our work." The shots, noise, fight and general excitement, had brought a crowd rushing to the spot. There was a policeman among them. But they arrived too late to be of any assistance. Rushing up to the Bradys officiously, the panting policeman asked: "What's the matter here?" "Nothing," replied Harry. "Do you call that nothing?" asked the policeman, grabbing the boy. "Here--you!" exclaimed Old King Brady, showing his badge. "Let go that detective and ring up the wagon so we can run in these prisoners. Step lively now, and don't try to be too smart." "Detective?" asked the policeman. Harry showed his badge. The policeman wilted, and the crowd laughed at him. Without a word he hurried away to order the patrol wagon. It soon arrived. The prisoners were lifted aboard and accompanied by the Bradys, were driven to the nearest police station. Formal complaints were entered against the four Canadians and when they were locked up, the detectives departed. In the street Harry said to his partner: "After all, we haven't accomplished such a lot." "Why not?" demanded Old King Brady, in surprise. "Because we've only got Mrs. La Croix and the four spies."