Without a sound, Jack bent forward, pulling his assailant with him, despite his efforts to get Jack's head back between his shoulders. For a full minute they were poised thus. Armitage knew better than to crack his neck in frantic efforts to break the strong arm grip. There were other ways. He was very cool and he had confidence in that neck of his, which set on his shoulders like the base of a marble column. The hand of the stranger was pawing for a grip on his right wrist, but Jack, who knew the move and had no desire to have his elbow shattered, kept it out of the way. And all the time he kept up a slight strain upon the arm around his neck, into which, by the way, his chin was slightly buried, breaking in some degree the choking power of the hold.
For two minutes they stood thus, slightly swaying, and then instinctively Jack, gagging a little now, felt the minutest relaxation of the arm. Quick as thought he changed the position of his right leg, bringing into play the leverage of his hip. He twisted suddenly sideways, his neck slipping around in the encircling arm. His hand closed upon the back of a thick, perspiring neck. The next instant a figure catapulted over his back, bringing up with a bone-racking crash against a piece of furniture.
Armitage, whose eyes were now accustomed to the dark room, ran to an electric globe at the side of a writing desk and turned on the light. By this time his assailant was rising, tottering but full of fight, a desire which Jack, now all for carnage, was quite ready to satisfy. As he started for the man something in the fellow's face made him pause. He uttered a low exclamation. He was Takakika, the Japanese cook. But there was no time for words; the Jap launched himself at him with fingers quivering in anticipation of the grip he sought. He never arrived. Armitage whipped his right fist with all the power of his body behind it to a point about two inches below Takakika's left ear. There was a sharp crack and the Jap fell to the floor in a huddle, motionless.
"Now, I reckon you 'll lie still," said Jack unpityingly. "You and Koltsoff, too, will find that the spy game in the United States is full of travail."
He glanced at the man, who was groaning now and showing signs of recovery. "I guess I 'll lash you up to be on the safe side," which he did with several of Koltsoff's neckties.
"Now, then."
He arose and looked about the room. On a table near the door were several rolls of parchment. He went over to them and lifted them. They were the plans of the torpedo. With a sigh of relief he straightened them and folding the sheets into two small but bulky packages, put them into his pockets. Evidently the apartment had been thoroughly ransacked by Takakika. Drawers were opened, bags turned inside out, the bed torn apart, and the mattress ripped. But where was the control? Armitage felt about the Jap's clothing and then feverishly began going over the line of search pursued by the spy. So engrossed had he been in the struggle with Takakika that he had forgotten his intention of locking the door leading from the hall. Now his unsuccessful search filled his mind. At last in a dark corner of a closet he unearthed a small square bag. He had just taken it into the room and cut it when the door opened and Koltsoff entered.
For an instant he stood blinking and then his eyes travelled swiftly about the room, taking in Armitage, the bound and half conscious Japanese, and the general litter. Jack watched him closely, ready for any move he might make. The Russian's sudden appearance had startled him, but the first substantial thought that shot through his mind was that no one could possibly have been more welcome. He had failed to find the control: he had to have it. So he might as well have it out with the Prince now as any other time. If Koltsoff but knew it, he was facing a desperate man; for until he had entered and searched the rooms, Jack had harbored no doubt that possession of the control was merely a matter of overhauling the Prince's effects. Now he knew better, and for the first time he was really alarmed as to its whereabouts. He returned Koltsoff's gaze with smouldering eyes. But the Russian was very much at ease.
"What is it?" he asked at length. Without waiting for Armitage to reply he walked swiftly to the desk, jerked open a panel, and placed his hand in the opening. When he withdrew it, it was empty. Jack laughed, drew from his pocket a short heavy revolver with a pearl, gold-crested handle, twirled it about by the guard, and then put it back in his pocket.
"I got there first, Koltsoff," he said.