ly as the sergeant hastened to obey.
In a moment, the reserves came tumbling out, struggling into their
coats; there was a clatter of hoofs in the street as the wagon dashed
up; the reserves piled into it, permitting me to crowd in beside
them, Grady jumped to the seat beside the driver, and we were off at
a gallop, our gong waking the echoes of the silent street.

I clung to the hand-rail as the wagon swayed back and forth or
bounded into the air as it struck the car-tracks, and stared out into
the night, struggling to understand. Could Godfrey be right? But of
course he was right! Some intuition told me that; and yet, how had
Crochard managed to substitute himself for the French detective?
Where was Pigot? Was he lying somewhere in a crumpled heap, with a
tiny wound upon his hand? But that could not be--Grady and Simmonds
had been with him all the evening! And could that aged Frenchman with
the white, fine, wrinkled skin be also the bronzed and virile
personage whom I had known as Felix Armand? My reason reeled before
the seeming impossibility of it--and yet, somehow, I knew that
Godfrey was right!

The wagon came to a stop so suddenly that I was thrown violently
against the man next to me, and the reserves, leaping out, swept me
before them. We were in front of the Day and Night Bank, and at a
word from Grady, the men spread into a close cordon before the
building.

Another police wagon stood at the curb, with the driver still on the
seat, but as Grady started toward it, a figure appeared at the door
of the bank and shouted to us--shouted in inarticulate words which I
could not understand. But Grady seemed to understand them, and went
up the steps two at a time, with an agility surprising in so large a
man, and which I was hard put to it to match. A little group stood at
one side of the vestibule looking down at some one extended on a
cushioned seat. And, an instant later, I saw that it was Simmonds,
lying on his back, his eyes open and staring apparently at the
ceiling.

But, at the second glance, I saw that the eyes were sightless.

Grady elbowed his way savagely through the group.

"Where's Kelly?" he demanded.

At the words, a white-faced man in uniform arose from a chair into
which he had plainly dropped exhausted.

"Oh, there you are!" and Grady glowered at him ferociously. "Now tell
me what happened--and tell it quick!"

"Why, sir," stammered Kelly, "there wasn't anything happened. Only
when we st