The distance separating them was not more than twenty feet. The athletic youth would have covered it in a twinkling.
But suddenly he fell to the floor with a smothered groan.
"I'm hit hard," he cried; and, raising himself upon one knee, with his left hand pressed to his temple, he drew a revolver with the other.
"Don't shoot!" exclaimed Nick. "It's Millie Stevens!"
The detective made a bound toward the figure.
The light which had played full upon it wavered, as if about to vanish.
Yet there was time. Nick felt sure of his prize, as he sprang out from his place beside the colonel.
And the next thing Nick knew it was six o'clock of the following morning, and he was lying in a bed, looking up into Patsy's face.