"That's 'is wife," observed the man, turning to Colin. "She's a bit queer in the 'ead, so you won't get nothing out of 'er." He moved aside to make room for Colin's entrance, and then, closing the door behind them, addressed himself to the woman. With a furtive nod she started off along the passage, at the end of which there was another room facing the front door. Colin, who had turned to follow her, took a pace forward. It was only one pace, for as his foot touched the ground something soft and heavy came down with a blinding thud on the back of his head. Half stunned by the blow, he pitched forward full length on to the rough and uncarpeted boards, and at the same instant two men sprang forward out of the room, and flung themselves heavily on top of him. What happened during the next few minutes seemed to belong to the world of nightmare. He had a vague impression of fighting desperately with fists and teeth and feet; then a savage hand gripped him by the throat, and everything was wiped out in a sudden and suffocating blackness. * * * * * * * * * "I tell yer I knows 'im. It's the swine that was 'elpin' the cops when they pulled 'Ginger Dick.'" The hoarse voice, which sounded very far away, penetrated slowly into Colin's mind, and, opening his eyes, he stared up at the speaker. He was still in the passage, stretched out flat on his back, with his ankles tied together and his arms bound tightly to his sides. Three men were standing round him, and, in spite of the dim light and the almost stupefying pain in his head, he had no difficulty in recognizing them. The bloodstained face that was scowling at him had been engraved on his memory ever since the day when he first met Nancy. It belonged to the ruffian who had led the attack on Marsden and had kicked him in the ribs when he was lying helpless on the ground. The other two were the plausible visitor to the surgery and Mr. "Spike" Cooper. It was the latter who replied to the first man's outburst. "What the hell's that got to do with it, anyway?" he drawled. "I'm here on business, and it don't matter a cuss to me whether he's your long-lost brother." "It matters to me though," growled the other. "I 'ad somethin' up against 'im before, an' now 'e's bashed 'alf me faice in with 'is blarsted boot. Taike that, yer swine!" He lifted his foot, but before he could accomplish his genial purpose a violent shove from "Spike" Cooper sent him staggering against the wall. "None o' that, you fool! Didn't you hear what the boss said? If there's any marks on his body we don't get the money." He turned to the man with the scar, who had watched the fracas with cynical indifference. "No good messing about, Jake. Catch hold of his feet and we'll cart him down straight away."