"The whole situation is absurd!" Ford declared. "Here we are in the
heart of London, surrounded by telephones, taxicabs, police--at
least, hope we are surrounded by police and yet we are crawling
around the floor on our hands and knees dodging bullets. I wish it
were a nightmare. But, as it's not"--he rose to his feet--"I think
I'll try----"

He was interrupted by a sharp blow upon the door and the voice of
Prothero.

"You, navy officer!" he panted. "Come to the door! Stand close to
it so that I needn't shout. Come, quick!"

Ford made no answer. Motioning to Miss Dale to remain where she
was, he ran noiselessly to the bed, and from beneath the mattress
lifted one of the iron bars upon which it rested. Grasping it at
one end, he swung the bar swiftly as a man tests the weight of a
baseball bat. As a weapon it seemed to satisfy him, for he smiled.
Then once more he placed himself with his back to the wall. "Do you
hear me?" roared Prothero.

"I hear you!" returned Ford. "If you want to talk to me, open the
door and come inside."

"Listen to me," called Prothero. "If I open the door you may act
the fool, and I will have to shoot you, and I have made up my mind
to let you live. You will soon have this house to yourselves. In a
few moments I will leave it, but where I am going I'll need money,
and I want the bank-notes in that blue envelope." Ford swung the