Elliston stared like one bereft of sense and life.
"Allow me to introduce Professor Darlington Ruggles, Mr. Elliston,"
uttered Harry Bernard in a mocking voice.
"Hades! what does this mean?" and the trapped villain staggered,
clutching the back of a chair for support.
"It means that your race of crime and diabolism is run, Harper
Elliston!"
Red hair and beard were suddenly swept aside, a revolver was thrust
into the startled countenance of Elliston; he looked, and could only
utter:
"DYKE DARREL, THE DETECTIVE!"
"Do you deny your guilt, scoundrel?"
But Harper Elliston sank to a seat, and bowed his head, while drops of
cold sweat covered his forehead.
The touch of cold steel and click of closing bracelets roused him.
He was helpless now, for his wrists were encircled by handcuffs. Black
despair confronted the villain.
Dyke Darrel went through the pockets of his prisoner and found a
revolver, an ugly looking clasp knife, and other articles of a nature
that served to show that the owner was not pursuing an honest calling.
"Do you remember that night on the dock beside the river, Elliston?"
questioned Bernard, bending suddenly over the prisoner.
But no answer came from the bloodless lips of the cornered villain.
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