the mere act of
physical contest, perfectly incomprehensible to me in my normal state of
mind. This strange joy now sent the blood surging through my brain until
my ears hummed; and yet I kept my judgment, calmly attentive and even
wary.

"Thus, when the third ruffian rushed at me with a large sheath-knife, I
knocked his hand aside quite neatly with the concussor and drove him out
of range with a heavy blow of my left fist. But at this moment I
observed Bamber frantically lugging something from his hip-pocket;
something that was certainly not a knife. It was time for a change of
tactics. Before the third rascal could close with me again, I darted at
the open doorway, grasped the rope, and in an instant had swung myself
clear of the steps down into the darkness of the cellar.

"In swinging I had turned half round, and, as I alighted, I saw my
aggressor, knife in hand, come through the doorway in pursuit. He had
more courage than Spotty but less discretion. In the haste of his
pursuit, he actually sprang over the sill on to the slippery top step,
and the next moment was bumping down the stairs like an overturned sack
of potatoes. As he picked himself up, half-stunned, from the prostrate
Jew, on whom he had fallen, I regretfully felled him with the concussor.
It was a dull finish to the affair, but there was Bamber's revolver to
be reckoned with.

"To do Mr. Bamber justice, he was not rash. In fact, he was so
unobtrusive that I began to fear that he had made off, and, it being
obviously unsafe to go up and ascertain, I proceeded to make a few
encouraging demonstrations.

"'Oh!' I shouted, 'Let me go! Let go my hands or I'll call for the
police!'

"This appeal had the desired effect. The dimly lighted doorway framed
the figure of Spotty Bamber, with revolver poised, peering cautiously
into the darkness.

"I renewed my protests, and, retiring to the darkest corner, shuffled
noisily about the brick floor.

"''Ave yer got 'im, Alf?' inquired the discreet Bamber, leaning forward
and stepping over the sill. I continued to dance heavily in my corner
and to utter breathless snorts and exclamations such as, 'Let go, I tell
you!' 'Aha! would you?' and so forth. Bamber took another step forward,
craned his neck and called out, 'Shove 'im over this way, Alf, so as I
can--'

"He did not finish the sentence. Watching him, I saw his feet suddenly
fly from under him, the revolver clattered on the cellar floor, and
Spotty, hims