s brutality, and the fighting instinct conquered even his pain.
With an oath he made his way to the hall, and it needed all of
Steingall's great strength to overpower him, wounded though he was.

It took Carshaw and Jim a couple of minutes to force their way in. There
was a lively fight, in which the detective lent a hand. When Mick the
Wolf was down, groaning and cursing because his fractured arm was broken
again; when Fowle was held to the floor, with Rachel Craik, struggling
and screaming, pinned beneath him by the valiant Jim, Carshaw sped to
the first floor.

Soon, after using hand-cuffs on the man and woman, and leaving Jim in
charge of them and Mick the Wolf, Steingall joined him. But, search as
they might, they could not find either Winifred or Voles. Almost beside
himself with rage, Carshaw rushed back to the grim-visaged Rachel.

"Where is she?" he cried. "What have you done with her? By Heaven, I'll
kill you--"

Her face lit up with a malignant joy. "A nice thing!" she screamed.
"Respectable folk to be treated in this way! What have we done, I'd like
to know? Breaking into our house and assaulting us!"

"No good talking to her," said the chief. "She's a deep one--tough as
they make 'em. Let's search the grounds."

CHAPTER XXIV

IN FULL CRY

Polly, the maid from the inn, waiting breathlessly intent in the car
outside the gate, listened for sounds which should guide her as to the
progress of events within.

Steingall left her standing on the upholstered back of the car, with her
hands clutching the top of the gate. She did not descend immediately. In
that position she could best hear approaching footsteps, as she could
follow the running of the detective nearly all the way to the house.

Great was her surprise, therefore, to find some one unlocking the gate
without receiving any preliminary warning of his advent. She was just in
time to spring back into the tonneau when one-half of the ponderous door
swung open and a man appeared, carrying in his arms the seemingly
lifeless body of a woman.

It will be remembered that the lamps of the car spread their beams in
the opposite direction. In the gloom, not only of the night but of the
high wall and the trees, Polly could not distinguish features.

She thought, however, the man was a stranger. Naturally, as the rescuers
had just gone toward the point whence the newcomer came, she believed
that he had been directed to carry the young lady to the