The generous fluid warmed the blood and revived the strength of the
wounded detective, who, making another attempt, stood on his feet.

Throwing his arm around Chip's waist, Sam bade the thoroughly cowed
woman to go before him, and was moving slowly to the door when a sharp,
stern voice commanded;

"Stop!"

The detectives looked up, and standing in the open door, a revolver in
each hand, stood Jim Cummings.




CHAPTER XI.

A MIDNIGHT FLIGHT.


THE two detectives were in a tight fix. One of them sorely wounded; the
other, handicapped by his almost helpless comrade, would stand small
chance against the burly man who checked their path. But Sam, who was
nearly as large in build as was his opponent, and in an even fight,
would not have hesitated to bear down upon him, slipped his arm from
around Chip, and prepared himself for a desperate struggle.

As his arm passed his side pocket, he felt his revolver. Keeping Chip
before him, he slipped his hand onto it, and drew it out, Chip keeping