“Of course.”
“Well, you’ll both be on the dissecting table in twenty-four hours. You’ll make good subjects, too.”
“Put me in a chair,” said the detective. “The floor is like a rock.”
The doctors lifted him up.
“You have only a short time to live,” one of them said, “and we may as well make you comfortable.”
The next moment one of the ruffians stood before the detective with a rag saturated with ether.
“It’s time to put you to sleep,” he said. “You’ll wake up in a place where you won’t need an overcoat.”
The instant the muscular doctor came within reach, Nick sprang to his feet, and struck out with his right, throwing all the strength of his strong arm and all the weight of his body into the blow.
The doctor caught the blow under the ear, and went to the floor like a dead man.
Then the door of the wardrobe was thrown open, and Nick’s rescuer dashed out.