Jem nudged one of his companions, and winked knowingly. The detective, without appearing to do so, saw the wink and took note of Jem.
When the last lingerer had been turned out, and the Blue Lion had closed its doors for the night, the detective made a few notes in his own room before he went to bed.
On the fourth night, when he was supposed to be in possession of the collected money, the detective went upstairs as usual, but not to sleep. He had avoided such an accident by a nap in the afternoon. Fully dressed, he lay down under the bed coverings, and for three hours, listening intently to the slightest sound in the house, he waited.
And presently, about two hours before the dawn, the expected visitor came.
Very softly, with the rapid, light movements of an expert, the figure crept round by the wall, groping, searching. The man in bed sprang up, leaped out, and planted his back against the door.
Then for five minutes he waited in vain. Not a sound betrayed the presence of another person in the room. He took a box of matches from his pocket, and struck a light. He could see the greater part of the small room, but no trace of a human being besides himself.
After the lapse of a few minutes, it occurred to him that the intruder might have concealed himself in a cupboard which filled the recess between the wall and the fireplace on the other side of the bed. Trusting to his own nimbleness to prevent the escape of the thief, he climbed quickly over the bed, and had his hand on the cupboard door, when a sound behind him caused him to turn his head just in time to see the door of the room flung open by the shadowy figure, who must have been in hiding under the bed.
The detective sprang to the door, and caught the disappearing figure by the arm. Instantly it was as still as a statue.
“Now I have got you!” cried the detective, between his teeth. “Let’s have a look at you.”
Still holding the arm in a firm grip, he struck a fusee from a case he found in his handiest pocket. Before he could distinguish anything, however, the light was promptly blown out by his prisoner, who began to struggle violently. Still holding the glowing fusee, he tried, while holding his captive, to distinguish her features by the red glow. In her frantic efforts to free herself, she flung the back of one imprisoned hand right upon the fusee, and uttered a short cry of pain. The next moment, by a dexterous twist, she had wrenched herself away.