"Not he," I answered, with an indignation that I dared not show.
"You must have hit him pretty hard," pursued young Medlicott, "but
I suppose it was a case of getting first knock. And a good job you
got it, if this was his," he added, picking up the murderous little
life-preserver which poor Raffles had provided for his own
destruction.
"Look here," I answered, sitting back on my heels. "He isn't dead,
Mr. Medlicott, and I don't know how long he'll be as much as stunned.
He's a powerful brute, and you're not fit to lend a hand. But that
policeman of yours can't be far away. Do you think you could
struggle out and look for him?"
"I suppose I am a bit better than I was," he replied doubtfully.
"The excitement seems to have done me good. If you like to leave
me on guard with my revolver, I'll undertake that he doesn't
escape me."
I shook my head with an impatient smile.
"I should never hear the last of it," said I. "No, in that case
all. I can do is to handcuff the fellow and wait till morning if he
won't go quietly; and he'll be a fool if he does, while there's a
fighting chance.
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