ed, as she went back to bed and switched off the
light. "What sort of girl does he take me for? I don't know whether
to feel insulted or amused... But I'm glad I didn't forget to lock and
bolt the door. I wonder..."

Myra snuggled her head down in her pillow, but scarcely had she closed
her eyes when there was a crash against her bedroom door, a shout, and
then a shot, and the sound of more shouting. She sprang up
convulsively, her hands pressed to her breast, screamed involuntarily,
then, recovering herself, switched on the lights, sprung out of bed,
unbolted and unlocked the door, and flung it open--to find Don Carlos
de Ruiz, clad in pyjamas and dressing gown, engaged in a desperate
struggle with a burly, fully-dressed stranger on the floor of the
corridor outside her room.

In one swift glance Myra saw that the stranger had a pistol clutched in
his right hand, but that Don Carlos had a grip on the man's right wrist
and was desperately struggling to prevent his antagonist from using the
weapon against him. She screamed again, and even as she did so Don
Carlos, by some dexterous twist, got the armed man's elbow across his
knee, there was a howl of pain, and the pistol dropped from the
fellow's hand.

Quick as lightning Don Carlos released his grip, made a dive for the
pistol and got it, then leapt to his feet.

"Now lie where you are, you swine, or I'll kill you," he snarled
breathlessly.

"Blast you! You've broken my arm," the man on the floor snarled back
at him, writhing in agony. "Blast you! Don't shoot. I surrender...
Oh, Gawd! my arm! I wish I'd killed you, damn you!"

While this was happening, doors had been flung open, lights had been
switched on, and scared women and startled men had appeared in the
corridors from their bedrooms, excitedly demanding to know the cause of
the uproar. Tony, in a suit of purple pyjamas, and with his sandy hair
on end, was almost the first on the scene.

"What's up? What's happened? Who's this fellow?" he asked
breathlessly. "A burglar? Have you shot him, Carlos?"

"No, I think I have merely dislocated his elbow," Don Carlos answered,
without taking his eye off the brawny burglar, who was now sitting up
nursing his damaged elbow and muttering curses through his clenched
teeth. "He tried to shoot me when I surprised him as he was trying to
force the door of Miss Rostrevor's room. You'd better 'phone for the
police and have the house searched in case he h