Hendry was fast losing patience, and Von Hamner was doing all he could to keep his finger off the trigger of the revolver. "Ah yes, conjuring tricks you call them, you ignorants! Now look. You have put the handcuffs on to my wrists. Is this a conjuring trick? See!" He held his arms out towards them, his two hands chained together. "Mr Hendry, be good enough to take my right hand, and you, Herr von Hamner, my left. So; now shake my hands. You see, there are the handcuffs on the floor." It was only a shake of the hands, but the clink of the steel followed as the bracelets dropped from his wrists. He stooped down, and inside ten seconds they were clipped round Von Hamner's. In the same instant he had twitched the revolver out of his hand and pointed it at Hendry's face. "Now, gentlemen, you were talking about taking the law into your own hands. I, you see, have taken it into mine. What do you propose to do? I am quite at your service. Your idea of arresting me on a charge of receiving stolen goods is, if you will allow me to say so, absurd. You could no more make me guilty of that than you could hang me for the deaths of those foolish spies of yours. Now, what is it to be? Pardon me, Herr von Hamner: the bracelets inconvenience you. Allow me." He took the handcuffs between his finger and thumb, shook the chain, and they dropped into his hand. "You will feel more comfortable now." "Yes, and I'll make you less comfortable in Hell, where you should have been long ago," shouted Von Hamner, jumping at him the moment his hands were free, and snatching the revolver out of his hand. The pistol went up before Hendry could get hold of his arm, and he fired. Phadrig put his hand up, and when the smoke had drifted away, he held it out to Von Hamner, and said: "I think that is your bullet, mein Herr." The bullet was lying in the palm of his hand, a little out of shape through passing the rifling, but still the same bullet. The German's face turned a reddish-grey, and Nicol Hendry, with all his courage, was not feeling particularly well. As a matter of fact, he was, for the first time in his life, absolutely frightened. A man who could deal with handcuffs as though they were made of cotton, and catch a bullet in his hands, was not the sort of criminal he had been trained to hunt. As for Von Hamner, he was in a state of utter collapse. He dropped upon a chair, a pitiable spectacle of craven fear, looking about half his real size so physically shrunken did he seem. "Let the devil go, Hendry," he mumbled. "He is more than man. What is the use? If you cannot shoot him, you cannot hang him, and if handcuffs won't hold him, prison doors won't. Let us go and leave the devil to himself. I've had enough of it."