ws of the house--dark, uncurtained, revealing
no sign of life or habitation. Had he really taken that walk with
Pritchard, stood on this spot with him only a minute or two ago? Then he
picked up the police whistle and he had no longer any doubts. The whole
scene was before him again, more vividly than ever. Even at this moment,
Pritchard might be in need of help!

He turned and walked sharply to the corner of the Terrace, finding
himself almost immediately face to face with a policeman.

"You must come into this house with me at once!" Tavernake exclaimed,
pointing backwards. "A friend of mine was attacked here just now; a man
tried to stab him. They are both in that house. The man ran away and my
friend followed him. The door is closed and no one answers."

The constable looked at Tavernake very much as the musician had done.

"Do either of them live there, sir?" he asked.

"How should I know!" Tavernake answered. "The man sprang upon my friend
from behind. He had a knife in his hand--I saw it. My friend threw him
over and he escaped into that house. They are both there now.

"Which house is it, sir?" the policeman inquired.

They were standing almost in front of it. The gate was open and
Tavernake beat against the panels with the flat of his hand. Then, with
a cry of triumph, he stooped down and picked something up from a crack
in the flagged stones.

"The key!" he cried. "Come on, quick!"

He thrust it into the lock and turned it; the door swung smoothly open.
The policeman laid his hand upon Tavernake's shoulder.

"Look here," he said, "let's have that story of yours again, a little
more clearly. Who is it that's in this house?"

"Five minutes ago," Tavernake began, speaking rapidly, "I met a man in
the Strand whom I know slightly--Pritchard, an American detective. He
said that he had something to say to me and he asked me to walk round
with him to a club in this Terrace. We were in the middle of the road
there, talking, when a man sprang at him; he must have come up behind
quite noiselessly. The man had a knife in his hand. My friend threw him
head over heels--it was some trick of jiu-jutsu; I have seen it done at
the Polytechnic. He fell in front of this door which must either have
been ajar or else some one who was waiting must have let him in. He
crawled through and my friend followed him. The door was slammed in my
face."

"How long ago was this?" the policeman asked.

"Not much more than five mi