There was a sound of voices outside, a scraping of feet on the muddy path, and John Bennett came into the hut. In a moment the girl was in his arms. Broad looked round. Elk and Dick Gordon were standing in the doorway, taking in the scene.
“Gentlemen,” said Joshua Broad, “I call you to witness that I killed this man in self-defence.”
“Who is it?” said Dick.
“It is the Frog,” said Joshua Broad calmly. “His other name is Harry Lyme. He is an English convict.”
“I knew it was Harry Lyme.” It was Elk who spoke. “Is he dead?”
Broad stooped and thrust his hand under the man’s waistcoat.
“Yes, he is dead,” he announced simply. “I’m sorry that I have robbed you of your prey, Mr. Elk, but it was vitally necessary that he should be killed before I was, and one of us had to die this night!”
Elk knelt by the still figure and began to unfasten the hideous rubber mask.
“It was here that Genter was killed,” said Dick Gordon in a low voice. “Do you see the gas?”
Elk looked at the glass cylinders and nodded. Then his eyes came back to the bareheaded American.