"It's a lie! It's a mistake! This man is crazy!" young Gregg shouted. "I appeal to you for protection, gentlemen!"
"Protection you shall have, sir, by law, if you deserve it!" the constable replied, slipping a pair of hand-cuffs upon the young man's wrists.
"Now, sir"—to Mr. Thornton—"permit me to examine your papers."
The speculator drew a package of documents from an inside coat-pocket, and the officer gave them a critical examination.
"They are all right," he said, returning them.
"For the present, I will leave the scoundrel in your charge—until I recover my lost daughter!" Mr. Thornton said.
"That you will never do, curse you!" Griffith Gregg hissed, savagely. "You've sealed her doom, in tackling me, and you may as well put a mourning band around your hat."
"What! do you dare to tell me my daughter is in peril, sir?"
"Well, that remains to be told. It is according to whether I am released or not. If not, most assuredly you will never see her or the money she stole, for if I am to answer for all the charges you have preferred against me, I can just as well add a few more, without any inconvenience."
"We shall see about that. I think a rigid search will find her. Officer, remove him to a place of safety, until I determine upon a future course of action."