He had covered scarce a yard, however, when the sharp, metallic ring of
Cervera's voice fell plainly on his ears.
"Look again, one of you," she curtly commanded. "See if that vagabond
has come to himself."
"That's your humble servant!" thought Nick.
He quickly rolled back to his former position on the floor, and prepared
to play the fox.
In a moment the door was thrown open, admitting a flood of light, and a
man strode into the room and dropped to his knee beside the motionless
detective.
"I say!" he harshly growled, shaking Nick roughly by the shoulder.
"Brace up, you dog! Brace up, d'ye hear?"
Nick groaned deeply, then slowly opened his eyes.
"Oh, my head--my poor head!" he muttered, like one dazed and in pain.
"Your poor head, eh?" sneered the other. "You're dead lucky to have a
head left you. Pull yourself together, do you hear?"
"Let me be! Where am I?"
"You'll soon find out where you are. Sit up here!"
"What do you say?" cried Venner, from the next room. "Has he come to?"
The man at Nick's side turned his head to reply, and Nick then obtained
a clear view of his profile.
"Humph!" he mentally ejaculated. "Matthew Stall in disguise! One of the
diamond gang, sure enough, and I now know I am on the right track.
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