he gusto with which the police prepared to enter the house and
confound the obliging host with a sight of my dripping garments and
accusing face. And, indeed, in all my professional experience I have
never beheld a more sudden merging of the bully into a coward than was
to be seen in this slick villain's face, when I was suddenly pulled from
the crowd and placed before him, with the old man's wig gone from my
head, and the tag of blue ribbon still clinging to my wet coat.

His game was up, and he saw it; and Ebenezer Gryce's career had begun.

Like all destructive things the device by which I had been run into the
river was simple enough when understood. In the first place it had been
constructed to serve the purpose of a stairway and chute. The latter was
in plain sight when it was used by the sailmakers to run the finished
sails into the waiting yawls below. At the time of my adventure, and for
some time before, the possibilities of the place had been discovered by
mine host, who had ingeniously put a partition up the entire stairway,
dividing the steps from the smooth runway. At the upper part of the
runway he had built a few steps, wherewith to lure the unwary far enough
down to insure a fatal descent. To make sure of his game he had likewise
ceiled the upper room all around, including the inclosure of the stairs.

The door to the chute and the door to the stairs were side by side, and
being made of the same boards as the wainscoting, were scarcely visible
when closed, while the single knob that was used, being transferable
from one to the other, naturally gave the impression that there was but
one door. When this adroit villain called my attention to the little
window around the corner, he no doubt removed the knob from the stairs'
door and quickly placed it in the one opening upon the chute. Another
door, connecting the two similar landings without, explains how he got
from the chute staircase into which he passed on leaving me, to the one
communicating with the room below.

The mystery was solved, and my footing on the force secured; but to this
day--and I am an old man now--I have not forgotten the horror of the
moment when my feet slipped from under me, and I felt myself sliding
downward, without hope of rescue, into a pit of heaving waters, where so
many men of conspicuous virtue had already ended their valuable lives.

Myriad thoughts flashed through my brain in that brief interval, and
among them the whol