“In my country,” he yelled, “we'd have that feller out in about six minutes in spite of all the blank blank Police in this blank country. THEY ain't no good. They're scairt to death.”
At this point Cameron walked in upon him and laid a compelling grip upon his collar. Instantly Bill reached for his gun, but Cameron, swiftly shifting his grip to his arm, wrenched him sharply about and struck him one blow on the ear. As if held by a hinge, the head fell over on one side and the man slithered to the floor.
“Out of the way!” shouted Cameron, dragging his man with him, but just as he reached the door a heavy glass came singing through the air and caught him on the head. For a moment he staggered, caught hold of the lintel and held himself steady.
“Here, Scott,” he cried, “put the bracelets on him.”
With revolver drawn Constable Scott sprang to his side.
“Come out!” he said to the goatee man, slipping the handcuffs over his wrists, while Cameron, still clinging to the lintel, was fighting back the faintness that was overpowering him. Seeing his plight, Hep sprang toward him, eager for revenge, but Cameron covering him with his gun held him in check and, with a supreme effort getting command of himself, again stepped towards Hep.
“Now, then,” he said between his clenched teeth, “will you come?” So terrible were his voice and look that Hep's courage wilted.
“I'll come, Colonel, I'll come,” he said quickly.
“Come then,” said Cameron, reaching for him and bringing him forward with a savage jerk.
In three minutes from the time the attack was made both men, thoroughly subdued and handcuffed, were marched off in charge of the constables.