“Take this card and call upon me to-morrow, and I will see that you get home to your people,” he replied. “Let him go—father.”
It was the first time he had addressed Mr. Armstrong by that title, and it sounded strange on his lips.
The gentleman stepped aside, and Luke flew up the street like a frightened deer.
This strange proceeding attracted the officer’s attention, and he got active and alert at once.
He approached the group at a quick gait.
“Officer,” said Mr. Armstrong, in a commanding tone, “arrest these two rascals. They assaulted me with intent to rob. I am stopping at the Normandie and will appear against them in the morning. Here is my card.”
“How about that fellow running up the street?” asked the policeman, sharply.
“Never mind him. You couldn’t overtake him now.”
“I’ll have to ask you to step around with us to the station,” said the officer as he jerked the reviving Tim Bunker to his feet with one hand and with the other secured a strong grasp on Mudgett’s coat collar.
“Very well,” acquiesced Mr. Armstrong, with no little reluctance. “Come to the Hotel Normandie, my son, after you have taken the young lady home.”