p. Seemingly, the only person who
was interested in his movements was the sinister, black-browed man who
had been talking so earnestly with Holmes in the courtroom half an hour
before. And Charlie, in a great hurry, paid no attention to
him--probably did not even know that he was in the hotel.

With the man, however, matters were very different. He watched Charlie
go up the stairs with the keen eyes of a hawk; and, a minute later,
followed him up. And when, ten minutes after he had entered his room,
Charlie opened the door to come out, he was met with a sharp blow on
the chest that staggered him and sent him reeling back into his room.

In an instant the sinister man he had dismissed so readily from his
mind when he had seen him talking with Holmes was on him, the door
closing as he flung himself through it, and Charlie, taken completely
by surprise, was overpowered before he could even begin to put up any
sort of resistance.

Even his belated impulse to call for help came too late. A gag was
thrust into his mouth as he was about to open it, and then, with no
pains to be gentle, his assailant produced stout cord from his pocket
and tied him securely to the bed.

While he was thus rendering Charlie impotent to obstruct him in any way
the ruffian said nothing whatever. Now, however, standing off a
minute, and looking at his victim with much satisfaction, he broke his
silence.

"Trussed up as neat as a turkey for Thanksgiving," he said, in a hoarse
whisper that seemed to be his natural speaking voice. "You won't do
any more damage, I guess."

And then Charlie, who had been bewildered by this attack, realized at
last its meaning. For his assailant came close to him, began to search
his pockets, and, in a moment, drew out, with a cry of triumph, the
precious letter from Holmes to the gypsy--the letter without which the
whole case against Holmes was bound to collapse!

Charlie struggled insanely for a moment, but then suddenly he grew
quiet. For his eyes had happened to wander toward the window, which
the thief, with the carelessness for details that has caused the
downfall of so many of his kind, had left uncovered. And, peering
straight at him from a window across a small light shaft, he saw Bessie
King. He was longing to communicate with her when the thief suddenly
addressed him again.

"Say, bo," he said, in the same hoarse whisper, "I ain't got nuttin'
against you, see? If youse wants this here writ