She was all unveiled now, and Irma Gluyas uttered a faint cry as the handsome Jewess stood spellbound before the astounded prisoner.
Sergeant Breyman had already knotted a handkerchief around the prisoner's bleeding arm, when Dennis McNerney, in a ringing voice, cried, "August Meyer, alias Fritz Braun, I arrest you for the murder of Randall Clayton!" With one shuddering sigh, Irma Gluyas fell prostrate upon the grassy sward.

"Take her into the house, men," cried the sergeant, as a score of hardy soldiers now closed around the excited group.
"Go with them, Leah," said Atwater.

"I'll just glance at this scoundrel's arm, and then come in to you." When the riflemen bore the now fainting prisoner into the dreary granite-walled lodge, McNerney whispered to Atwater, "Look out for him! I must take the nurse and Leah, and try to locate Braun's plunder.

These Germans must never know of that." With all the formality of a martinet, Sergeant Breyman now posted his guard, leaving a corporal and two men with the young surgeon, for Atwater only lived now to see Braun dragged back to his punishment.
There was no mistake, for McNerney had whispered, "It's the Sixth Avenue druggist, sure enough! I am a made man for life!" The few household servants were being paraded and questioned by the German official, while Dennis McNerney, followed by Leah, glided through the rooms of the second story.

A glance told the practical officer where Braun had made his own headquarters.
"The southwest bedroom and second-story turret gave a view of all of the approaches to the Adler's Horst." Guns and sharpened hunting implements easily showed Braun's preparations for defense, and his presumed relaxation.
When McNerney had glanced at Irma Gluyas' own retreat, he hastily locked the door of Braun's separate retreat.