The ball was spent harmlessly in the air.

Jabbering in French, the man made an effort to wrench the weapon free, but
Old King Brady was too quick for him.

He brought down his fist on the rascal's arm.

The force of that blow was awful.

It numbed the arm and the pistol fell from his nerveless fingers.

The next moment Old King Brady's fist caught him on the nose, almost
smashing that organ flat, and as the Canadian bit the dust, the detective
landed on top of him like a tiger seizing its prey.

"I've got you now!" exclaimed the old detective, fiercely.

"Mercy!" groaned the man.

"Roll over."

"Yes--yes."

"Place your hands behind your back."

"Yes."

"Now keep still, or I'll strangle you."

Old King Brady tied the man with his handkerchief and rose.