For a few seconds there was a fierce struggle, but in desperation Ansell drew his revolver and fired point-blank at one of his captors, who staggered and fell back with a bullet-wound in the face.
Then in a moment the thief had wrenched himself free and was away.
The sound of the shot alarmed two other police-cyclists who were in the vicinity, and, attracted by the shouts of the injured man’s companion, they were soon on the scene, and lost no time in pursuing the fugitive.
The chase was a stern one. Through narrow, crooked streets “The American” ran with all speed possible, his endeavour being to reach a narrow lane protected from wheeled traffic by posts at either end, where he knew the cyclists would be compelled to dismount.
The quarter where he was, chanced to be a not altogether respectable one, therefore the wild shouts of the pursuing cyclists brought no assistance from the onlookers. Indeed, the people shouted to the fugitive, crying:
“Run, young fellow! Run on and they won’t get you! Run!”
And men and women shouted after him encouragingly.
With their cries in his ears, Ansell mended his pace, but his pursuers were fast gaining upon him, and had almost overtaken him when he reached the narrow passage between two high, dark-looking houses, close to the river.
He was now near to the river-bank, and within sight of the Pont des Peupliers, which crosses the Seine to Issy. The two police-agents threw aside their cycles and sped after him, but he was too quick for them, and when they had passed through the passage, they saw him dashing along by the edge of the river.
In his mad haste he stumbled and fell, and his pursuers were instantly upon him. But ere they could reach him he had jumped again to his feet and, levelling his revolver, fired point-blank at them.