Boyd left the ship and went to the dock-office, for there still remained one thing to be done: he could not leave without sounding a final note of triumph for Mildred. How sweet it would be to her ears he knew full well, yet he could not help wondering if she would feel the thrill that mastered him at this moment. As he saw the empty spaces where had stood those masses of freight which he had gathered at such cost, as he heard his own men bellowing defiance at his enemies and realized that his first long stride toward success had been taken, his heart swelled with gladness and the breath caught momentarily in his throat. After all, he was going to win! Out of the shimmering distance of his desire, the lady of his dreams drew closer to him; and ere long he could lay at her feet the burden of his travail, and then--. Oblivious to the turmoil all about, he wrote rapidly, almost incoherently, to Mildred, transcribing the mood of mingled tenderness and exultation which possessed him. "Outside the building," he concluded, "there is a raging mob. They would ruin me if they could, but they can't do it, they can't do it. We have beaten them all, my lady. We have won!" He was sealing his letter, when, without warning, "Fingerless" Fraser appeared at his side, his fishlike eyes agleam, his colorless face drawn with anxiety. "They've come to grab you for killing that striker," he began, breathlessly; "there's a couple of 'square-toes' on the dock now. Better take it on the 'lam'--quick!" "God!" So Marsh had withheld this stroke until the last moment, when the least delay would be fatal. Boyd knew that if he were brought into court he would have hard shift to clear himself against the mass of perjured testimony that his rival had doubtless gathered; but even this seemed as nothing in comparison with the main issue. For one wild instant he considered sending George Balt on with the ship. That would be folly, no doubt; yet plainly he could not hold _The Bedford Castle_ and keep together that raging army of fishermen while he fought his way through the tedious vexations of a trial. He saw that he had under-estimated his enemy's cunning, and he realized that, if Marsh had planned this move, he would press his advantage to the full. "There's two plain-clothes men," he heard Fraser running on. "I 'made' 'em as they were talking to Peasley. You'd better 'beat' it, quick!" "How? I couldn't get through that crowd. They know me. Listen!" Outside the street broke into a roar at some taunt of the fishermen high up in the rigging. "I can't run away, and if those detectives get me I'm ruined." "Well! What's to be done?" demanded Fraser, sharply. "If you say the word, we'll shoot it out with them, and get away on the ship before--" "We can't do that--there are a dozen policemen in front here." "Well, you'll have to move quick, or they'll 'cop' you, sure." Boyd clinched his hands in desperation. "I guess they've got me," he said, bitterly. "There's no way out."