Vining came a step closer, laughing. “But I want him now, Sergeant: I’m not going to take any more chances on his getting away. I want him where I can watch him myself.” The sergeant’s hand reached out and fell on the bell on his desk, “Can’t do that, sir. I have orders to lock him up.” Vining stepped back a pace, as though in astonishment and disappeared behind one of his companions. He reappeared again just as a door opened to his left and a couple of sleepy constables stumbled into the room. “Well,” said Vining, “let’s have a good look at him to make sure.” He came a step closer, his hand flashed up and the light glinted on the metal object he held. I ducked sideways, but not quite quick enough, for there was a dull thud and a sickening pain shot through my shoulder. In a daze I heard the sergeant shout, and the next minute heard the roar of his heavy revolver. I heard a scream of pain and the noise of shouting and heavy feet as I sank down on the floor; for my knees seemed to give out under me suddenly. Then, with the uproar of some sort of a fray still in my ears, blackness descended on me for the second time that night. When I came to myself again I was in a police cell. The sergeant was bending over me. My eyes wandered vaguely for a moment, and then I managed to make out two other familiar faces. The first was that of the doctor who had given me the lift earlier in the night. The other belonged to my old friend Captain Peters. I managed to summon a grin, in spite of the racking pain in my shoulder. “Pretty busy night, Captain!” I murmured. Then I glanced at the sergeant. “Did you get any of them?” The sergeant grinned—a wide, wholesome grin. “I did that, sor. I got the one that shot you. He’s in the next cell. The other two surrendered. They’re cooling their heels beyond!” Captain Peters strode forward to lean over me. “The doc. here says you can travel all right. Feel well enough, sir?” I turned and stared at the doctor. He grinned back at me. “Fine tale you told me to-night, young man,” he laughed. “But I seem to have been on the right side, anyway, in giving you a lift. I half suspected you were fleeing from justice! Feel well enough to get up?” I had been shot in the left shoulder. I put out my right hand and caught hold of the sergeant and so struggled to my feet. “Feeling first-rate now,” I told them. “Haven’t had much sleep lately, which probably explains why I went off like that.” I glanced at the sergeant. “If you’ve got Vining in the next cell, you’d better put a pretty good guard over him. _He’s_ a slippery customer, let me tell you!” Captain Peters slipped his hand under my good arm. “Can you come away with me now? There’s no time to lose.” I turned quickly. “Right you are, Captain. I had forgotten for a moment. Good-night, Sergeant! Good-night, Doctor.”