Stooping low, and holding the revolver in his left hand, he set off at a rapid pace across the lawn. It was only about twenty yards from the bushes to the house, and in less than half a dozen seconds all three of them were in front of the verandah.
Without pausing in his stride, Marsden made straight for the French window. It consisted of two fragile-looking doors with a large pane of glass in each, and, using his shoulder as a battering ram, the detective hurled the full weight of his fourteen stone against the strip of woodwork in the centre.
The other two, who were immediately behind him, heard a splintering crash and a tinkle of broken glass. Then in the blaze of light that streamed out through the gap they saw Marsden stumble forward on to his hands and knees, and, like a scene on the stage, the whole interior of the room suddenly leaped into view.
No theatre, indeed, could have provided a more dramatic spectacle than the one which met Colin's eyes as he dashed for the opening. A couple of men, whom he recognized instantly as Cooper and Hudson, had sprung to their feet beside an overturned card table, and were standing as though rooted to the spot with amazement and terror.
It was only for the fraction of a second, however, that the tableau remained unbroken. As Colin darted in past the Inspector, Cooper, who was the farther away of the two, seemed instinctively to recover his wits. With a movement as quick as a panther's he dived back behind his companion, and, taking a flying jump over the fallen table, raced headlong for the door.
His flight seemed to act on the deserted Hudson like the breaking of a spell. A foul oath burst from his lips, and, grabbing one of the overturned chairs by its nearest leg, he hurled it with all his force straight in the face of Colin.
The latter, who saw it coming, jerked up his arm just in time. It struck against his elbow and crashed down on to the floor, tripping up Joe as he attempted to dodge past in pursuit of the fugitive.
Staggered himself by the blow, Colin recovered almost instantly. One stride brought him within reach of his assailant, and, ducking under a clumsy swing, he smashed home a terrific right flush on the point of the jaw. It was a punch that would have floored ninety-nine men out of a hundred, and Mr. Jake Hudson was one of the unfortunate majority. He went down as though struck by a coal hammer, the back of his head landing with a loud thud against the edge of the table.
Brief though the delay had been, it had enabled "Spike" Cooper to achieve his object. He was through the door and had slammed and locked it behind him before the Inspector and Joe were able to gain their feet. It was Colin, indeed, who was the first to reach it, and he was already wrenching vainly at the handle when the two others rushed up to his assistance.
"Wait a minute," rasped the Inspector, who was evidently not in the best of tempers. "Let me blow in the lock, then we shall have a better chance."