"I think we had better risk it a little longer," was Venner's cautious
reply. "After all is said and done, we must not make ourselves too
prominent. If necessary we will take a hand, but, unless I am greatly
mistaken, the prisoner upstairs has got the better of his captors. Ah, I
thought so."

The sound of strife overhead suddenly ceased after two smashing blows,
in which evidently a man's clenched fist had come in contact with naked
flesh. There was a groan, the thud of a falling body, and the man in the
list slippers came rolling down the stairs. He was followed a moment
later by a young clean-shaven man dressed in a grey Norfolk suit. His
frame suggested power and strength, though his face was white like that
of one who is just recovering from a long illness. He was breathing very
hard, but otherwise he did not appear to have suffered much in the
struggle out of which he had emerged in so victorious a fashion. He made
his way direct to the drawing-room, and immediately a woman's voice
uprose in a long wailing cry.

"I'd give something to see that," Venner whispered. "Only I am afraid we
can't do anything until the man in the list slippers comes to his senses
and takes himself off. There is another one coming now. He doesn't look
much better off than his colleague."

Another man crept down the stairs, swaying as he came and holding on to
the balusters. He had a tremendous swelling over his left eye and a
terrible gash in his lip, from which the blood was flowing freely.
Altogether he presented a terrible aspect as he bent over the prostrate
form of his unconscious companion.

"Here, get up, wake up," he said. "What are you lying there for? He'll