"Hah!"
The assassin was marvellously nimble; although Jack made a dart after him pistol in hand, meaning to wreak summary vengeance upon him, the ruffian contrived to vanish again—mysteriously.
Strangely disturbed by this, Jack went home and related to his friends what had taken place.
"This is a rum go," said Mr. Mole; "you have been mistaken for somebody else."
"So I suppose," returned Jack.
"What's to be done?" said Harry Girdwood.
"Lodge information with the police at once, I should say," suggested Mole.
"By all means."
"What was he like?"
"I could scarcely see," was Jack's reply, "for he was gone like a phantom."