Dropping his hand from Aunt Jule's huge arm, the detective rushed from the room and the house. He was laboring under great excitement, as well he might be, for Nell was as the apple of his eye, and she had been enticed to the great city for a fell purpose, he believed.
CHAPTER XVII.
NELL IN THE TOILS.
The instant after Professor Ruggles fired, the masked face in the doorway disappeared, and the sound of swift-moving feet was heard.
Still clutching his weapon, the Professor strode to the door and flung it open, gazing into the alley, which framed no reply to the question that trembled unspoken on his lips.
"Did you hit him, Professor?"
"I fear I didn't."
Professor Ruggles then made an examination of the alley that assured him that his bullet had not been stopped by flesh and bone—instead, it lay on the ground where it had fallen, flattened, from the brick wall above.
"So much for being a poor shot," sneered the woman.