"Now," said Baddeley. "We'll take him with his back towards us."
Anthony drew his revolver, and we hurled ourselves at the crouching figure. He was utterly and completely taken by surprise.
"Curse you!" he snarled. "What's the game?" But Baddeley silenced him with a buffet to the mouth while Anthony and I flung ourselves upon him. The scuffle was sharp but short. Three against one is merciless odds, and each one of us was bigger than our quarry. A few ineffective kicks and he lay helpless on the ground. Baddeley clicked the bracelets on his wrists.
"Now, Mr. 'Spider' Webb," he cried, "I charge you with the robbery, last night, or to be precise, yesterday morning, of Lady Considine's pearls, and I warn you that anything you say may be used as evidence against you. Bring him inside, gentlemen." He called to Roper. "Tell those other two it's all right--they can leave their positions and get back."
We escorted our prisoner to the library, and on the way I was able to get my first good look at him. Jack Considine and Arkwright joined us.
He was a thin-faced, slim-limbed man with long black hair under his peaked cap. One of a type that can be seen many times over any day in the East End of London. I could quickly see how he had qualified for his sobriquet of "Spider." His face twitched spasmodically as we marched him into the library.
"A very neat piece of work, Sir Charles," exclaimed Baddeley ... "very neat and quite according to plan."
Our prisoner flashed a glance full of menace at him, malice and spite flickering over his face unmistakably.
"Wot am I charged with?" he grunted. "Let's hear it again."
"The theft of Lady Considine's pearls," rapped Baddeley.
"Oh! Not cradle-snatching or boot-legging ... nothing fancy-like?"
"And unless you're very careful," went on the Inspector, "you may find yourself called upon to face an even more serious charge than robbery."
Webb whitened, even under his normal pallor. "What might that be?" he muttered.
"The murder of Mr. Gerald Prescott, at Considine Manor," replied Baddeley with studied deliberation.
"I know nothink about that, guvnor, nothink at all. S'elp me God, I don't."
"You knew of the murder then?" snapped Baddeley. "You aren't surprised?"