They rolled on the floor in a heap.
“Have you got him, Phelan?” cried Captain Stone, rushing through the room and into the hallway.
“I have, sorr,” responded Phelan, proudly, getting to his feet and pulling up his captive.
“What the devil’s this,” bawled Captain Stone, recognizing Gladwin.
“The thief, sorr,” responded Phelan.
“The thief, hell! That’s Mr. Gladwin!”
“W-w-w-what?” stuttered Phelan. Once again he entered into a condition of complete mental paralysis.
“Has he hurt you, sir?” asked the captain, solicitously, noticing that Gladwin’s face was writhing.
“Nothing mortal,” winced the young man.