The robber struck at him, and Nick parried the blow with the gun, leaping in with the quickness of a cat and gripping Clancy about the waist. From that moment the fight was lost to Clancy. The Little Giant’s phenomenal strength quickly made itself felt. He contracted his arms, the awful, viselike pressure slowly but surely driving the breath from the robber’s lungs. Clancy began to gasp, his eyes distended, and the bar fell from his nerveless hand. “Stop!” he whispered; “you’re killing me!” Nick bore him into the blacksmith shop and hurled him to the ground. Clancy struggled to avoid the handcuffs, and Nick, forcing his arms around the anvil, made the wrists fast. “Now,” said the detective, “you can struggle all you please.” The blacksmith was bathing his eye in a tub of water. “Are you hurt much?” asked Nick. “Thought for a spell I had been kicked by a mule,” answered the smith, wiping his eye on the dingy handkerchief that was tied around his neck. “Sorry I didn’t come through in time tew help ye.” “Gee whiz!” cried the red-headed boy, “he didn’t need no help. He downed the big feller easier’n anythin’ I ever see. Gosh, mister, but you’re great!” The youngster looked at Nick with admiring eyes, and the latter brought out a half-dollar, which he had in his pocket, and which had somehow escaped Clancy’s search and the consequent bath in the river. “Do you want to earn this, my lad?” Nick asked. “Can a duck swim?” the boy chirped. “Then get on that horse and ride up the road. You won’t have to go far before you find a couple of automobiles----” “What’s them?” “You’ll know when you see them--you won’t make any mistake. If there is any one with the machines say that I want them brought here. Understand?” “Like a house afire!” “Then catch!” Nick flipped the coin toward the boy, who grabbed it out of the air and stowed it away in his pocket. A minute later he was galloping up the road. Several men, hearing the commotion at the blacksmith shop, had come in from the neighboring fields, and they were standing around, looking from Clancy to Nick, and trying to get the true inwardness of the affair from the blacksmith. “Come outside,” said Nick, amiably, “and I’ll tell you all about it.” And that’s what he was doing when Chick and Patsy bore down on him--smoking and enlightening the natives. A few hurried words of explanation were exchanged by the detectives. “Are all the grips belonging to the prisoners still in the Red Spider?” asked Nick. “There are three here,” said Chick; “they’re big ones, and heavy as lead.” “It was the heft that kept the grafters from lugging the grips along when they made their break for the timber,” put in Patsy. “Open one of the satchels, Chick,” said Nick, “and see what’s inside. I’m a little anxious to know.” Chick complied. “Whew!” he exclaimed, his amazed eyes fixed on the contents of the satchel he had opened. “Gold, silver and bank notes?” queried Nick. “I should say so!”