"You are a skilled and slippery villain, young man, but you cannot throw
me off the scent by any such pretense as this. I've trapped too many
criminals, and heard their smooth talk. Let me tell you that I heard your
confession to your wife, that you murdered Victoria Vane and robbed the
house."
Bordine trembled under the detective's hand.
"Come."
"But I tell you there is some mistake, sir. My name is Bordine, and--"
"I do not care to listen just now," interrupted Silas Keene. I know my
duty."
"I doubt it," retorted Bordine angrily. "I will make you smart for this."
The young man walked on, however, and when in the vicinity of the city
lockup, the detective turned from the street to cross a vacant lot. They
were thus in a gloomy spot, and compelled to pass near the edge of a deep
hollow, an excavation made a long time before for a cellar.
Just at this point a dark form glided up behind the detective and dealt
him a stunning blow on the head, felling him to the ground.
"Thar, pardner, I reckon that beak won't git no furder with his
pris'ner."
Bordine was dumbfounded.
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