“That is all right, Doctor,” said the Sergeant, despite the Calvinism of generations beating in his heart, “it is hard on them, but there is nobody compelling them here to drink and fight like a lot of brutes.”

“But who is to teach them any better?” said the doctor.

“Come on,” said the Sergeant, “who is this?” pointing to the dark-bearded man lying in the corner.

“Dis man,” said Jacob, “strange man.”

“Any of you know him here?” asked the Sergeant.

There was a murmur of voices.

“What do they say?”

“No one know him.  He drink much beer.  He very drunk.  He play cards wit’ Rosenblatt,” said Jacob.

“Playing cards, eh?  I think we will be finding something now.  Who else was in the card game?”

Again a murmur of voices arose.

“Dis Polak man,” said Jacob, “and Rosenblatt, and dat man dere, and—­”

Half a dozen voices rose in explanation, and half a dozen hands eagerly pointed out the big Dalmatian, who stood back among the crowd pale with terror.

“Come up here, you,” said the Sergeant to him.

Instead of responding, with one bound the Dalmatian was at the door, and hurled the two men aside as if they were wooden pegs.  But before he could tear open the door, the Sergeant was on him.  At once the Dalmatian grappled with him in a fierce struggle.  There was a quick angry growl from the crowd.  They all felt themselves to be in an awkward position.  Once out of the room, it would be difficult for any police officer to associate them in any way with the crime.  The odds were forty to one.  Why not make a break for liberty?  A rush was made for the struggling pair at the door.

“Get back there!” roared the Sergeant, swinging his baton and holding off his man with the other hand.

At the same instant the doctor, springing up from his patient, and taking in the situation, put down his head and bored through the crowd in the manner which at one time had been the admiration and envy of his fellow-students in Manitoba College, till he found himself side by side with the Sergeant.

“Well done!” cried the Sergeant in cheerful approval, “you are the lad!  We will just be teaching these chaps a fery good lesson, whateffer,” continued the Sergeant, lapsing in his excitement into his native dialect.  “Here you,” he cried to the big Dalmatian who was struggling and kicking in a frenzy of fear and rage, “will you not keep quiet?  Take that then.”  And he laid no gentle tap with his baton across the head of his captive.

The Dalmatian staggered to the wall and collapsed.  There was a flash of steel and a click, and he lay handcuffed and senseless at the Sergeant’s side.