But Labar thrust him aside and took the shortcut over the rails without troubling the bridge. Another porter roused by the shout of his colleague rushed to stop him. Labar gave him a push in the chest which sent him headlong.
“I’m a police officer,” he cried. “Let me alone.”
Normally he would have cried to the officials to stop the train, but his mind was obsessed with the one idea, and for the moment incapable of coherent reasoning. As he swept by the line of carriages he caught a second’s view of the guard with his flag raised and his whistle at his lips.
The train began to move very slowly, but he was for the moment gaining upon it, his eyes fixed upon the panorama of the carriage windows. One glimpse he caught of a face that he knew, and jumped for the door of a first-class carriage. In the corner of the compartment farthest from him Larry Hughes was holding back Penelope with one hand while he faced about with a snarl of rage at the intruder. The door stuck and Labar wrestled fiercely to pull it open.
Abandoning the girl for the moment Larry leapt forward and aimed a blow at the officer which had it reached him would probably have dashed him from his precarious hold. Then like a wild cat the girl took a hand. So vehement was her attack that Larry was pulled from his balance and fell backwards on top of her. Before he could recover Labar was in the carriage.
He had pulled his automatic but he dared not use it lest he should hit Penelope. Dropping it upon the seat he dashed at the other man with his naked hands. Larry was taken at a disadvantage, but, powerful though the detective was, he was unable for a while to gain the mastery. Pinned for the time beneath the two writhing, struggling men the girl could do nothing. Indeed she stood in considerable danger of injury for Labar dared not relax the fight that she might free herself.
Larry was not so big a man as Labar, but some dynamic power seemed to keep him going. A passing fear came to Labar that the door would give and precipitate the three of them on the line. He exerted all his force to pin his antagonist to the floor, but Larry was as slippery as an eel.
The detective took the risk of suddenly releasing his man and stood half upright. As Larry, too, tried to regain his feet Labar with careful calculation swung at him. There was one hundred and eighty pounds of muscular manhood behind the blow, and Larry dropped as if he was shot. Labar dragged his body off the half-fainting girl and helped her to a seat.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
She smiled faintly upon him. “A bit bruised and breathless but otherwise all right,” she gasped.
Satisfied that she had suffered no material harm he turned his attention to Larry Hughes. The girl was pale as she observed him examine the victim of the knockout.
“Is he dead?” she said.
Labar laughed. “No, he’s alive enough. He’ll be as full of beans as ever in five minutes’ time. Let’s see what we can do.” He lifted the unconscious man to a more convenient position. “Now if you can help me. Hold his hands while I make sure of him.”
She obeyed his instructions while Labar for want of anything better—like most detectives he never carried handcuffs except for some definite purpose—knotted his own handkerchief, and one taken from Larry’s breast pocket, about the prisoner’s wrists so that his hands were firmly lashed behind him.
“That’s that,” he observed, propping Larry up in a corner. “He’ll do till we reach a station. Now tell me how all this came about.”
Careless whether Larry returned to consciousness or not he placed one arm about her and bent his face to hers.
“I had a note,” she explained, “signed with your initials telling me that all was well and asking me to meet you at this train as it was necessary that you should go to London immediately.”
“Who brought the note?”
“Some boy. Probably a messenger picked up in the street. Of course I went to the station at once, but could see no sign of you, nor of anyone that I knew till the train was about to start. That was just a little before you came. Then suddenly Larry Hughes was beside me. I was startled, of course, but the audacity of the thing somehow prevented any sense of alarm for the instant.
“ ‘Don’t be alarmed,’ he said. ‘You are looking for Labar?’
“ ‘What are you doing here?’ I cried. ‘Where is Mr. Labar?’ I was so worried about you that I was unable to think clearly.
“ ‘I am on parole till the train starts,’ he declared. ‘You will be pleased to learn that I have surrendered, that I am a prisoner.’ ”
Labar interrupted her story. “My dear child. Don’t tell me that you were ingenuous enough to swallow that—to believe that I would let a prisoner—especially Larry—move about on his own?”
“It does sound silly. I was off my balance I suppose. I did not altogether believe it or disbelieve it. It sounded a little strange, but then so many strange things have happened to me. I could not account for his presence in Rye unless he had surrendered. He declared that you were treating him as a gentleman, and that you had gone to send a telegram and would be back in a minute. Malone was already in the train.
“We walked along the train to find the compartment in which Malone was supposed to be. All at once he gave me a quick push and thrust me into the train. Instantly he followed, pinning me down to the seat with some kind of jiujitsu hold, and with one hand over my mouth, but seating himself so that it would be difficult for anyone passing along the platform to notice what he
