"Yes. But I don't want him jailed. He's had his punishment. That's the joke. After the gentleman held me up, I returned to the office. When I got there, who should I see but my Yankee friend? Struck it rich this summer and is on his way home. Came in to make me a present of a beautiful nugget, in gratitude. We opened a convivial bottle and I told him my experience. 'Could you point the man out?' he asked. 'Come on, then. I'll get your money back.' 'I don't want the money,' I said. 'And he's armed.' 'Never mind. I want to get your roll for you. Don't worry. I was champion boxer at Yale.' So, to humour him, and expecting a little fun, I took him to the Cash-In, a good starting-point for our search. The human microbe was in the bar. Our Yankee friend called him outside—said he wanted to tell him a secret. Secret! Wow!" The doctor chuckled. "He got the human microbe's gun and then pounded him to a jelly. When the massacre was ended, the microbe handed over the roll and departed like a lamb. Strange, eh?"
"Very. But," Hector insisted, "we must take the man."
"Aw, Adair, he's had enough."
"No, he hasn't. Describe him, will you?"
The doctor looked reproachful.
"Adair, if I thought you'd do this I wouldn't have told you the story. But the King must be obeyed. He was a huge, broad-shouldered creature, with a beard and, strange to say, he had no nose. Why, do you know the gentleman?"
"Do I? That's No-nose Joe, one of Greasy Jones' men, I'm certain. Grown a beard, eh? I must see to this."
After a word with Forshaw, Sergeant Savage, at that moment patrolling the streets of Discovery, was sent for. The bulldog Sergeant appearing, he was given a description of the man and told to look for him at the Cash-In.
"And be quick!" said Hector.
"You may be quick, but you won't be Quick as I'd be," said the doctor.