When Orme still made no move to leave his seat, the steely fingers on his wrist ran up his forearm and pressed down hard upon a nerve-center. The pain was almost unbearable, and for the moment his arm was paralyzed. A quick jerk brought him to the ground. As he alighted, stumblingly, Maku caught him by the other arm. He was held in such a way that for the moment it seemed futile to struggle. Arima, meantime, spoke rapidly in Japanese to Maku. Perhaps he, as commander of the situation, was giving precise orders as to what was to be done. Orme looked over his shoulder at the girl. She was clutching the door of the tonneau and leaning forward, staring with horrified eyes. "Keep cool," he counseled. Her answer was a moan of anguish, and he realized that she feared for him. Suddenly she began to call for help. Twice her cries rung out, and then one of the Japanese leaped into the tonneau and placed his hand over her mouth, smothering her voice. The sight of this action was too much for Orme. He began a furious effort to break away from his captors. One sudden motion freed his right arm from Arima's clutch, and he reached for Maku's throat. But after a moment of scuffling, he was again held securely. "Girl!" he shouted, "don't try to call out. Keep quiet." The Japanese in the tonneau appeared to understand the words, for he took his hand away from the girl's mouth, though he remained beside her, ready to put an end to any fresh outbreak. "Now," said Orme, turning his eyes on Arima, "what does this mean?" "You give us papers," replied the Japanese softly. "I have no papers that mean anything to you." "We see. Give them to me." "What papers do you want?" demanded Orme. "You know." Arima's voice sounded less patient. "But I have nothing that you care anything about," repeated Orme. At that Arima began rapidly to search Orme's pockets. There was sufficient light from the lamps of the two cars to illuminate the scene. Arima's left hand still held Orme's right forearm, and his right hand was free to hunt for the papers. Maku, on the other side, had meantime strengthened his grip on Orme's left arm, at the same time raising one knee so that Orme could feel it pressing against the small of his back. "What this!" asked Arima, taking a long envelope from the inner pocket of Orme's coat and holding it up for inspection. "A blank contract," said Orme. "Do you want it?" Arima took the paper from the envelope and examined it. Then with an exclamation of disgust he replaced it in Orme's pocket and continued his search. "You see," said Orme calmly, "there is nothing here." The Japanese, muttering in his own tongue, ran his hands over Orme's body and even looked into his hat. Nothing was found. "You might as well believe me first as last," exclaimed Orme. "The papers you want are not here." Arima was clearly puzzled. "You had them," he began.