Mr. Nichols whirled and fired. The shot buried itself in the wall, but it was close enough to the crook to warn him that the detective was no amateur at handling firearms.
"Scram!" he yelled warningly to his companion.
They fled into the garden with the detective in close pursuit. The two thieves were too hard pressed to give any thought to the lost bag of loot. Several shots were exchanged but the men succeeded in reaching their car which was parked in the driveway. The engine roared as they sped away. Springing into his own automobile, Nichols took up the pursuit but he soon abandoned it as useless, returning to the house.
There he telephoned the police, offering not only the license number of the fleeing automobile but a detailed description of the men.
"The radio cruiser ought to pick them up in a few minutes," he told Penny.
While a curious crowd gathered about he took a knife and extracted the bullet which had been fired into the wall.
"What will you do with that?" someone questioned.
"Keep it for evidence," he explained. "And this revolver as well, although now that I've used it, all fingermarks probably have been obliterated."
The women were clamoring for their lost jewelry, so with Penny's assistance, the detective distributed the articles.
"I feel just like Santa Claus taking presents out of my pack," he declared jokingly. "Here's your brooch, Penny. Did you think you were going to lose it?"