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AN AFRICAN MILLIONAIRE

Paul Finglemore drew back even while we held his shoulders. 'No, not you, sir,' he said to the man, haughtily. 'Don't dare to lay your hands upon me! Send for a constable if you wish, Sir Charles Vandrift; but I decline to be taken into custody by a valet!'

'Go for a policeman,' Dr. Beddersley said to Simpson, standing forward.

The prisoner eyed him up and down. 'Oh, Dr. Beddersley!' he said, relieved. It was evident he knew him. 'If you've tracked me strictly in accordance with Bertillon's methods, I don't mind so much. I will not yield to fools; I yield to science. I didn't think this diamond king had sense enough to apply to you. He's the most gullible old ass I ever met in my life. But if it's you who have tracked me down, I can only submit to it.'

Charles held to him with a fierce grip. 'Mind he doesn’t break away, Sey,' he cried. 'He's playing his old game! Distrust the man’s patter!'

'Take care,' the prisoner put in. 'Remember Dr. Polperro! On what charge do you arrest me?'

Charles was bubbling with indignation. 'You cheated me at Nice,' he said; 'at Meran; at New York; at Paris!'

Paul Finglemore shook his head. 'Won't do,' he answered, calmly. 'Be sure of your ground. Outside the jurisdiction! You can only do that on an extradition warrant.'

'Well, then, at Seldon, in London, in this house,