The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-03-29


 sees and were nearing the Rond point, the best guarded part of Paris, where the shrill summons of his police call would be answered almost instantly.
 ''There is no hurry. I suppose said the detective. ,ttTd like to ask a ques- tion or two"
 Coquenil was studying his adversa- ry. That beard? Could 1t be false And the hands, the arms? He had watched these from the first, noting every movement, particularly the left hand and the left arm, but he had de tected nothing significant.
 @I wonder if you have anything against me personality inquired M. Paul
 "On the contrary" declared the oth- CT, "we admire you and wish you weIl.''
 'But you threaten my dog?"
 elf necessary, yes"
 "And my mother?''
 eff necoggary.''
 The decisive moment had come, for just then there shot around the corner from the Avenue Montaigne a large red automobile. which crossed the Champs Elysees slowly, turning into the Avenue Gabrielle, and stopped un- der the chestnut trees. Like flash it came into the detectives mind that the same automobile had passed them once before some streets back. On the front seat were two men, strong look ing fellows, accomplices, no doubt
 'I ask because"-. began M. Paul with his indifferent drawl; then, swift ly dra wing his whistle, he sounded a danger call The stranger sprang away, but Coquenil was on him in a bound. The bearded man, with a great heave of his shoulders, broke the de tective's grip, then suddenly he attack ed, smiting for the neck with the open hand held sideways in the treacherous c1eaving blow that the Japanese use. Coquenn ducked forward. ''He struck with his right thought M. Paul.
 At the same moment he felt his ad- versary's hand close on his throat and rejoiced. for he knew the deadly jitsu reply to this. Hardening his neck mus cles until they covered the delicate parts beneath like bands of steel, the detective seized his enemy's extend ed arm in his two hands, one at the wrist, one at the elbow, and as his trained fingers sought the painful pres sure points his two free arms started
 
 captured arm. There is no escape from this movement no enduring it's excru- ciating pain. Slowly the stranger felt the tendons stretching, the bones crack ing, in this helpless right arm. A few seconds more and the end would come, a few seconds more and-then a crash ing, shattering pain drove through Co., quenil's lower heart region, and he sank weakly to the ground. His en- emy had done an extraordinary thing had delivered a blow not provided for in jitsu tactics. In spite of the torsion torture he had swung his free arm un- der the detectives lifted guard, not in Yokohama style, but in the best man. ner of the old English prize ring, his clinched fist falling full on the un- guarded solar plexus nerves. And Co., Quenil dropped with this thought: 'It was the left that spoke then.'
 As he sank to the ground M. Paul tried to save himself, and, seizing his opponent by the leg, he held him des- perately, but the spasms of pain over came him. and he felt the clutched leg slipping from his grasp. Then as con- sciousness faded he rallied in a last fierce effort, and he bit the man deeply under the knee.
 When Coquenil came to himself he was lying on the ground and several policemen were bending over him. He lifted his head weakly and looked about him. The stranger was gone; the automobile was gone. And sud denly it flashed through his mind that he had been outwitted from the first: that the mans purpose had not been at all what it seemed to be; that a hand to hand conflict was precisely what the stranger had sought and planned for, because-because- In feverish haste CoQue1in felt in his breast pocket for the envelope with the precious leather fragments. It was not there. Then quickly he searched his other pockets. It was not there. The en- velope containing the woman's name and address was gone.