his upper lip, swallowed hard, threw back his head and looked at the ceiling. As a last resort he held his nose, and pinched it violently. It was of no avail. He sneezed.
A stifled, checked, emasculated sneeze, but a startling sound in the deadly quiet of the room.
The stranger sprang round, and in the same minute Anthony acted. He flashed on his torch, and jumped full for the stranger. In another minute they were down on the floor together.
“Lights,” shouted Anthony
Virginia was ready at the switch. The lights came on true and full to-night. Anthony was on top of his man, Bill leant down to give him a hand.
“And now,” said Anthony, “let’s see who you are, my fine fellow.”
He rolled his victim over. It was the neat, dark-bearded stranger from the Cricketers.
“Very nice indeed,” said an approving voice.
They all looked up startled. The bulky form of Superintendent Battle was standing in the open doorway.
“I thought you were in London, Superintendent Battle,” said Anthony.
Battle's eyes twinkled.
“Did you, sir?” he said. “Well, I thought it would be a good thing if I was thought to be going.”
“And it has been,” agreed Anthony, looking down at his prostrate foe.
To his surprise there was a slight smile on the stranger’s face.
“May I get up, gentlemen?” he inquired. “You are three to one.”
Anthony kindly hauled him on to his legs. The stranger settled his coat, pulled up his collar, and directed a keen look at Battle.
“I demand pardon,” he said, “but do I understand that you are a representative from Scotland Yard?”
“That’s right,” said Battle.
“Then I will present to you my credentials.” He smiled rather ruefully. “I would have been wise to do so before.”
He took some papers from his pocket and handed them to the Scotland Yard detective. At the same time, he turned
143
