"I don't know," said Foster coolly. "It will save the police some trouble if he is."

"But I want to know what's happened,"

Foster indicated a pistol lying on the steps. "That's his; he tried to use it. I'll tell you about the thing later. In the meantime, you can take him to his room and telegraph for the police." He paused and beckoned Pete. "Go with them and don't lose sight of him until I come.

He'll probably come round soon."

"Weel," said Pete dryly, "I'm thinking he'll no' be verra sensible for a while yet, but I'll see he doesna' get away."

He and the waiter picked up Walters, and Foster turned to Lawrence.

"Now I'd better wash and straighten myself up. Perhaps you can lend me a jacket."

Lawrence laughed, a rather strained laugh. "Certainly; come along.

You're a curious combination, partner. I've called you romantic, but you're not a sentimentalist when you get into action."

x.x.x

RUN DOWN

Foster did not know what Lawrence told Lucy, because he was occupied for some time in his room. His lip was cut, his face was bruised, and there was a lump on his head where he had struck the steps. After he had attended to the injuries and frowned at his reflection in the gla.s.s, he rang the bell, and asking for some paper took out his fountain pen. It was not easy to write, but there was something to be done that had better not be put off. He knew now what the gang was capable of, and meant to leave a record, in case an accident of the kind to which his comrade had nearly fallen a victim happened to him.

Moreover, it might be a safeguard to let his antagonists know that they could not destroy his evidence if they took his life.

He related his adventures in Scotland, his pursuit of Daly, and his surmises about the gang, and then going down, asked the hotel clerk to witness his signature and put the doc.u.ment in the safe. After this, he went to the veranda, where Lucy came to meet him with shining eyes.

"Jake," she said with emotion, "I felt we would be safe as soon as you arrived. If you knew how I listened for the train and longed for your step! But the wretch has hurt you; your face is bruised and cut."

Foster felt embarra.s.sed, but laughed. "My face will soon recover its usual charm, and if it's any comfort, the other fellow looks, and no doubt feels, much worse." Then he turned to Lawrence, who sat near.

"You have evidently been telling Miss Stephen a highly-colored tale."

"Lucy!" she corrected him. "I'm not going to call you Mr. Foster.

You're our friend--mother's and mine---as well as Lawrence's." She stopped and shuddered. "But you shall not make a joke of what you did!

What might have happened won't bear thinking of. If you hadn't come in time!"

Foster, seeing her emotion, glanced at Mrs. Stephen, begging her to interfere, but her strained look indicated that her feelings harmonized with the girl's. Then Lawrence interposed with a grin--

"Jake always does come in time--that's one of his virtues. He's the kind of man who's there when he's wanted. I don't know how he does it, because he's not really clever."

"Lawrence," said Lucy severely, "sometimes you're not as humorous as you think."

"Then I hope I'm tactful, because you're making poor Jake feel horribly awkward. I believe he thought you wanted to kiss him and was very nearly running away."

Lucy blushed and Lawrence resumed: "He can't deny it; Jake, you know you would have run away! However, I knew what I was doing when I made him my partner some time ago. Jake has a romantic imagination that now and then leads him into trouble, but although it's perhaps as much luck as genius, when he undertakes a thing he puts it over. For example, there was the sawmill----"

Lucy stopped him with a gesture. "We are not going to talk about the sawmill. It was your--I mean our--troubles Jake plunged into, and pluck that can't be daunted is better than genius. But you're an English Borderer and therefore half a Scot; you hate to let people guess your feelings."

"Jake kens," said Lawrence, smiling. "Before very long you'll be a Borderer, too."

Lucy's eyes were very soft as she turned to Foster. "Then I must adopt their customs. I think they have a motto, 'Dinna' forget.'"

To Foster's relief, the hotel manager came in and looked at the two ladies hesitatingly. Neither took the hint and Lucy said, rather sharply, "Well?"

"Mr. Walters has come round and demands to be let out of his room.

Your man's there, Mr. Foster, and won't let him move."

"Pete's splendid!" said Lucy. "I haven't thanked him yet. Perhaps you had better go, Lawrence, but take Jake."

Foster beckoned the manager and when they were outside asked: "When do you expect the police?"

"Some time to-morrow."

"Then we must watch the fellow closely until they come."

They stopped at a room on the second floor, and the manager frowned when he turned the handle of the door, which would not open.

"Wha's there the noo?" a sharp voice demanded.

Foster laughed as he answered, the door was opened, and they saw Walters, who looked much the worse for the struggle, lying on a couch, while Pete stood grimly on guard. Walters glanced at Foster.

"You're something of a surprise," he said. "We didn't expect much from you."

"That's a mistake other people have made and regretted," Lawrence remarked.

"Well," said Walters, "I demand to be let out."

Foster shook his head. "I think not. The room is comfortable, and you won't be here long."

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Hand you to the police."

"On what ground?"

"Attempted murder, to begin with," said Foster dryly.

Walters turned to the manager. "A man can't be arrested without a warrant. I guess you understand you're making trouble for yourself by permitting these fellows to lock me in."

"I don't know if it's quite legal or not," Foster admitted, addressing the manager, who looked irresolute. "Anyhow, you're not responsible, because we're going to take the matter out of your hands. Besides, you haven't much of a staff just now and couldn't interfere."

"In a way, that's so," the manager doubtfully agreed. "I don't want a disturbance in my hotel; I've had enough."

"Very well," said Walters, seeing he could expect no help from him.

"But I'm not going to have this wooden-faced Scotchman in my room. The fool won't let me move. If you don't take him away, I'll break the furniture. I can do that, although I'm not able to throw the big brute out."

Foster walked to the window, which he opened. It was some distance from the ground and there was nothing that would be a help in climbing down. Besides, Walters did not look capable of trying to escape.

"We'll take him away," he said, and beckoning Pete and the manager, went out. He locked the door on the other side and resumed: "Send up a comfortable chair, a blanket, and a packet of tobacco. If there's any trouble, you can state that you acted on compulsion and we'll support you, but I rather think you can seize and hold a criminal when you catch him in the act. Stop here until I relieve you, Pete."