"At him, Niki!" Henry cried furiously.
Niki's mighty arm shot out, and the blow he gave the reporter on the jaw was cruel and merciless; it was a knockout. McGinity staggered back against the wall, then crumpled in a heap on the floor. He never stirred after that.
"Now, you!" exclaimed Henry, shaking his fist at the reporter's prostrate figure; "you're not going to interfere any longer with my affairs. No story tonight, my boy! Deadline or no deadline!"
Olinski strode over to Henry. "What are you going to do with him?" he asked, excitedly.
"Lock him up for the rest of the night," Henry replied.
"Very good," Olinski agreed. "Then, in the morning, we shall bring him to terms. Bribe him, if necessary."
"That's it," Henry concurred. "That's it, exactly. A good idea. And he'll fall for it. Oh, he'll fall all right. Meantime," he added with a sardonic grin, "I shall make him as comfortable as possible for the night."
"Where on earth are you going to put him?" asked Olinski.
"Where there are no possible means of escape," replied Henry.