"A more than human effort, Mr. Inspector, as the doctor has witnessed; if I had not muscles of steel and exceptional strength I should have been flattened." "Good--good," applauded Juve. "That's exactly it!" "Really! You think so?" queried the American with a touch of sarcasm. Juve smilingly apologised. His approval meant no more than that the statements of the victim coincided with the theories he had formed. And indeed he saw clearly in the unsuccessful attempt on the American and the achieved killing of Lady Beltham a common way of going to work, the same process. Undoubtedly the American owed it to his robust physique that he got off but slightly scathed, whereas the hapless woman had been totally crushed. The similarity of the two crimes allowed Juve to make further inductions. He reckoned that it was not by chance that Dixon had met Josephine at the "Crocodile" two nights before, while the presence of both Chaleck and Loupart in that establishment was still less accidental. And already he felt pleased at the thought that he knew almost to a certainty the villains to whom this fresh crime must be ascribed. They had wanted to get rid of Dixon, that was sure, and by a process still unknown to Juve, but which he would soon discover. They had rendered the pugilist helpless while they were robbing him. "Had you a large sum of money in your safe?" he asked. The American gave a violent start. "They've burgled me! Tell me, sir, tell me quickly!" Juve nodded in the affirmative. Dixon stammered feebly: "Four thousand pounds! They've taken four thousand pounds from me! I received the sum a few days ago!" "Gently, gently!" observed the doctor. "You will make yourself feverish and I shall have to stop the interview." Juve put in: "I only want a few moments more, doctor. It is important." Then, turning to Dixon, he resumed: "How did your struggle with the mysterious pressure end?" "After about ten minutes I felt my bands relaxing. In a short while I was free; I heard no more, but suffered such great pain that I fell back in bed and either slept or fainted." "Then you did not get up at all?" "No." "And the door of your room to the landing remained locked all night?" "Yes, all night." "How about this broken glass in your window? Those revolver shots at six in the morning?" "It was I, firing from my bed to make a noise and bring some one here."