"You didn't hear anything--no sound of a struggle?"

"Not a sound, sir; not a single sound."

"And you haven't any idea where the other man got out?"

"No, sir."

"Mr. Simmonds had a little valise with him--did you notice it?"

"Yes, sir; and I looked for it in the wagon, but it ain't there."

Grady turned away with a curse as four or five men ran in from the
street--the men from headquarters, I told myself. I could hear him
talking to them in sharp, low tones, and then they departed as
suddenly as they had come. The reserves also hurried away, and I
concluded that Grady was trying to throw a net about the territory in
which the fugitive was probably concealed; but my interest in that
manoeuvre was overshadowed, for the time being, by my anxiety for
Simmonds. I picked up his right hand and looked at it; then I drew a
deep breath of relief, for it was uninjured.

"Has anyone sent for a doctor?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," one of the bank attaches answered. "We telephoned for one
at once--here he is, now!" he added, as a little black-bearded man
entered, carry the inevitably-identifying medicine case.

The newcomer glanced at the body, waved us back, fell on one knee,
stripped away the clothing from the breast and applied his ear to the