He found instead a long, keen knife which he threw
aside. Then, with Porky, he fell to watching the closed eyes of
the spy. They opened, and the Wolf looked from one to the other
with cold, unrelenting hatred. He did not speak.
"Buck up!" said Hen suddenly. His voice shook with excitement.
"Say, you don't want to croak yet. I got to tell you: the Weasel
said to tell you that he had bit. Understand? He has bit.
See?" Hen paused with a look of satisfaction.
The Wolf, who was bleeding fearfully, slowly closed his eyes.
"That ends him," said Hen solemnly. "Gosh!"
A detective felt the heart of the wounded man.
"He's alive," he said. "Send an ambulance call, somebody."
Another detective raced down the stairs, while those who remained
commenced to search the room for hiding places.
"I know where he's got some stuff hidden," Asa said thickly.
"Take off his shoe; the other one," and someone did so. "Get
that iron thing on the table," Asa continued, "and get the heel
off."
The Chief had it done in a moment and the tiny squares of paper
fluttered to the floor. The Chief picked them carefully up, and
put them in his pocketbook as a wild clanging down below
announced the coming of the ambulance.
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