“Kedsty has taken a great fancy to me, Kent.  He’s a square old top, when you take him right.  Had me over this afternoon, and we smoked a cigar together.  When I told him that I looked in at your window last night and saw you going through a lot of exercises, he jumped up as if some one had stuck a pin in him.  ’Why, I thought he was sick—­bad!’ he said.  And I let him know there were better ways of making a sick man well than Cardigan’s.  ’Give them plenty to eat,’ I said.  ’Let ’em live normal,’ I argued.  ’Look at Kent, for instance,’ I told him.  ’He’s been eating like a bear for a week, and he can turn somersaults this minute!’ That topped him over, Kent.  I knew it would be a bit of a surprise for him, that I should do what Cardigan couldn’t do.  He walked back and forth, black as a hat—­thinking of Cardigan, I suppose.  Then he called in that Pelly chap and gave him something which he wrote on a piece of paper.  After that he shook hands with me, slapped me on the shoulder most intimately, and gave me another cigar.  He’s a keen old blade, Kent.  He doesn’t need more than one pair of eyes to see what I’ve done since Cardigan went away!”

If ever Kent’s hands had itched to get at the throat of a human being, the yearning convulsed his fingers now.  At the moment when he was about to act Mercer had betrayed him to Kedsty!  He turned his face away so that Mercer could not see what was in his eyes.  Under his body he concealed his clenched hands.  Within himself he fought against the insane desire that was raging in his blood, the desire to leap on Mercer and kill him.  If Cardigan had reported his condition to Kedsty, it would have been different.  He would have accepted the report as a matter of honorable necessity on Cardigan’s part.  But Mercer—­a toad blown up by his own wind, a consummate fiend who would sell his best friend, a fool, an ass—­

For a space he held himself rigid as a stone, his face turned away from Mercer.  His better sense won.  He knew that his last chance depended upon his coolness now.  And Mercer unwittingly helped him to win by slyly pocketing a couple of his cigars and leaving the room.  For a minute or two Kent heard him talking to the guard outside the door.

He sat up then.  It was five o’clock.  How long ago was it that Mercer had seen Kedsty?  What was the order that the Inspector had written on a sheet of paper for Constable Pelly?  Was it simply that he should be more closely watched, or was it a command to move him to one of the cells close to the detachment office?  If it was the latter, all his hopes and plans were destroyed.  His mind flew to those cells.