natural
contour it gave to the body's profile, they might have failed to
recognize him. The two stood motionless in the blackness of the inner
angle, pressing close to the iron pillars as their man passed them at a
distance of something less than twelve feet. The warning bell rang; they
hurried on board.

After the boat was well out into the harbor, the detective entered the
cabin to investigate. He returned to report to Father Honore that the
man was not inside.

"Outside then," said the priest, drawing a sharp short breath.

The two made their way forward, keeping well behind the team. Father
Honore saw Champney standing by the outside guard chain. He was whitened
by the clinging snow. The driver of the team sang out to him: "I say,
pardner, you'd better come inside!"

He neither turned nor spoke, but, bracing himself, suddenly crouched to
the position for a standing leap, fist clenched....

A great cry rang out into the storm-filled night:

"Champney!"

The two men flung themselves upon him as he leaped, and in the ensuing
struggle the three rolled together on the deck. He fought them like a
madman, using his bandaged arm, his feet, his head. He was powerful with
the fictitious strength of desperation and thwarted intent. But the two
men got the upper hand, and, astride the prostrate form, the detective
forced on the handcuffs. At the sound of the clinking irons, the
prisoner suffered collapse then and there.

"Thank God!" said Father Honore as he lifted the limp head and
shoulders. With the other's aid he carried him into the cabin and laid
him on the floor. The priest took off his own wet cloak, then his coat;
with the latter he covered the poor clay that lay apparently
lifeless--no one should look upon that face either in curiosity,
contempt, or pity.

The detective went out to interview the driver of the team.

"Where'd you pick him up?"

"'Long on West Street, just below Park Place. I see by the way he spoke
he'd broke his wind--asked if I was goin' to a ferry an' if I'd give him
a lift. I said 'Come along,' and asked no questions. He ain't the first
I've helped out o' trouble, but I guess I've got him in sure enough this
time."

"You're going to put up on the Island?"

"Yes; but what business is it o' a decent-looking cove like youse, I'd
like to know."

"Well, it's this way: we've got to get this man back to New York
to-night; it's the boat's last trip and there ain't a chance of getting
a