"If he came DOWN the stairs, Morgan, then the girl has certainly been pulling the wool over our eyes."
Morgan shook his head doubtfully. "Well, I'll acknowledge that it takes a pretty wise detective to understand a woman."
At this moment, Tierney showed signs of coming back to life. His eyes opened and looked at them with a dazed stare. Almost instantly this changed to a savage glare. His two arms shot up, seized the men leaning over him and pulled them down. Like most people who have been knocked unconscious, Tierney had no idea of the intervening lapse of time. Before becoming unconscious he had probably realized that he was attacked, and he was now taking up the fight where he had left off.
"Hold on, Tierney—this is Morgan—Morgan—do you understand? And this is Marsh with me!"
The two men held Tierney down until he had a chance to collect his thoughts. Then he smiled sheepishly as he looked from one to the other. "What the—!" he began; then paused.
They jerked him to his feet and set him down on the stair. There he sat for a moment, rubbing the sore spot on his head, of which he now began to be conscious.
"Guess I'd better resign," he said, dolefully, coming to a full realization of the situation. "A detective ain't much use after he begins to need a bodyguard."
"Cut the nonsense, Tierney," admonished Morgan. "Tell us what happened."
"That's what I'd like to know," growled Tierney.
"Well then," suggested Morgan, "tell us what happened up to the point where you don't know anything."