"Thieves!" Hyde yelled at the top of his lungs, groping wildly
for his pistol and not finding it.

King sat up and rubbed his eyes. The native drew the knife, and--
believing himself in command of the situation--hesitated for one
priceless second. He saw his error and darted for the door too late.
With a movement unbelievably swift King was there ahead of him;
and with another movement not so swift, but much more disconcerting,
he threw his sheet as the retiarius used to throw a net in ancient
Rome. It wrapped round the native's head and arms, and the two
went together to the floor in a twisted stranglehold.

In another half-minute the native was groaning, for King had his
knife-wrist in two hands and was bending it backward while he pressed
the man's stomach with his knees.

"Get his loot!" he panted between efforts.

The knife fell to the floor, and the thief made a gallant effort
to recover it, but King was too strong for him. He seized the knife
himself, slipped it in his own bosom and resumed his hold before
the native guessed what he was after. Then he kept a tight grip
while Hyde knelt to grope for his missing property. The major found
both the thief's bags, and held them up.

"I expect that's all," said King, loosening his grip very gradually.
The native noticed--as Hyde did not--that King had begun to seem
almost absent-minded; the thief lay quite still, looking up, trying
to divine his next intention. Suddenly the brakes went on, but