Forrester also came to a halt and the two men surveyed each other in silence. Completely covering the man’s head and shoulders was a black hood. Through two slits Forrester could see the sparkle of his eyes. Forrester recalled Prentice’s description of the two hooded men who had attacked him and realized that at last he was face to face with the "Friends of the Poor." The man moved forward. As he approached, his body slightly crouched like a wrestler waiting for his opening, Forrester took heart. If it was simply to be a hand to hand contest and the men came only one at a time, then there was some hope. Forrester kept the man off at first with his fists, but at length they closed and a desperate struggle began. Back and forth they tugged and pulled, neither man seemingly gaining any advantage. All at once Forrester saw the cylinders at his side and suddenly realized that throughout the struggle the man had been slowly dragging him along toward these death machines. And with the realization he saw the man reach out and seize the one with the rubber mask attached. From that moment the battle changed. Forrester’s one thought was to keep the mask away from his face, while the man’s main effort was evidently directed toward placing it there. Presently Forrester detected the peculiar odor of the gas. Either the cylinder had been accidentally opened in the struggle or the man had intentionally released the gas. As the mask was directed toward Forrester, and only a few inches from his face, he received the full effect of the fumes, while the man was partially protected from its effect. Forrester felt himself weakening, as he had on the night of the battle in Jasper lane. With a last despairing effort he tripped his antagonist and as they fell Forrester managed to come down on top. Slowly he forced the mask over the man’s hooded face and just as he had it in place Forrester sank down unconscious. CHAPTER XX—THE INVISIBLE DETECTIVE Forrester awoke to find himself in the same bedroom in which he had recovered consciousness after the attack made upon him in Jasper lane. The recognition of his surroundings was a shocking stimulant. Like a flash the whole scene in the underground passage was recalled. That he should again have been rescued by the girl possessed a significance which permitted of no alleviating doubt. Mary Sturtevant was unquestionably hand and glove with the "Friends of the Poor." Forrester closed his eyes and groaned. He loved her—would have redeemed her from their clutches—but she had not listened to him. _Now the whole terrible secret was within his grasp and yet that love for her must hold him back!_