Hagan and Cavendale were greatly excited. They hurried from the room, followed by "the chief."
The ringing at the doorbell continued. Then heavy blows fell on the door, resounding through the house. There was the sound of smashing wood.
"Come on, Merry!" laughed Morgan. "You have him this time! Don't let him get away!"
He had leaped up. He heard the door burst open. He heard some one approaching on the jump. With a spring he concealed himself behind a high-backed chair in the corner.
Hagan burst into the room, followed by "the chief."
"It's caught ye are, Mr. Lazaro!" said the disgusted Irishman. "They have us all! It's bad for me, but for you it means life behind the bars."
"Never!" was the retort. "See this vial, Señor Hagan? It contains poison. I shall swallow——"
A policeman appeared in the doorway.
The man of the terrible eyes and snowy hair placed the vial to his lips and swallowed the contents. Then he flung the empty vial at the officer, staggered to a chair, dropped upon it, and laughed a horrible laugh that ended with what seemed a death rattle.
Morgan had risen. In a dazed condition he saw officers swarm into the room, saw Hagan—who had been introduced to him as Harrigan—handcuffed, saw Frank Merriwell bending over a limp, still form and declaring the man was Lazaro.