The train began to move very slowly, but he was for the moment gaining upon it, his eyes fixed upon the panorama of the carriage windows. One glimpse he caught of a face that he knew, and jumped for the door of a first-class carriage. In the corner of the compartment farthest from him Larry Hughes was holding back Penelope with one hand while he faced about with a snarl of rage at the intruder. The door stuck and Labar wrestled fiercely to pull it open. Abandoning the girl for the moment Larry leapt forward and aimed a blow at the officer which had it reached him would probably have dashed him from his precarious hold. Then like a wild cat the girl took a hand. So vehement was her attack that Larry was pulled from his balance and fell backwards on top of her. Before he could recover Labar was in the carriage. He had pulled his automatic but he dared not use it lest he should hit Penelope. Dropping it upon the seat he dashed at the other man with his naked hands. Larry was taken at a disadvantage, but, powerful though the detective was, he was unable for a while to gain the mastery. Pinned for the time beneath the two writhing, struggling men the girl could do nothing. Indeed she stood in considerable danger of injury for Labar dared not relax the fight that she might free herself. Larry was not so big a man as Labar, but some dynamic power seemed to keep him going. A passing fear came to Labar that the door would give and precipitate the three of them on the line. He exerted all his force to pin his antagonist to the floor, but Larry was as slippery as an eel. The detective took the risk of suddenly releasing his man and stood half upright. As Larry, too, tried to regain his feet Labar with careful calculation swung at him. There was one hundred and eighty pounds of muscular manhood behind the blow, and Larry dropped as if he was shot. Labar dragged his body off the half-fainting girl and helped her to a seat. "Are you hurt?" he asked. She smiled faintly upon him. "A bit bruised and breathless but otherwise all right," she gasped. Satisfied that she had suffered no material harm he turned his attention to Larry Hughes. The girl was pale as she observed him examine the victim of the knockout. "Is he dead?" she said. Labar laughed. "No, he's alive enough. He'll be as full of beans as ever in five minutes' time. Let's see what we can do." He lifted the unconscious man to a more convenient position. "Now if you can help me. Hold his hands while I make sure of him." She obeyed his instructions while Labar for want of anything better--like most detectives he never carried handcuffs except for some definite purpose--knotted his own handkerchief, and one taken from Larry's breast pocket, about the prisoner's wrists so that his hands were firmly lashed behind him. "That's that," he observed, propping Larry up in a corner. "He'll do till we reach a station. Now tell me how all this came about."