“What?” demanded Ilam.
“What I’m doing now—holding up a strong room and its staff.”
“You’ll suffer for this,” said Ilam.
“That remains to be seen,” was the reply. “I gravely doubt if I shall suffer for it. Up to now, what have I done? I have asked those gentlemen to go into a corner and not to indulge in desultory and disturbing conversation; and they have been good enough to humour my caprice; and I have winked at you, Jos. Is there anything illegal in winking at you? A few days ago you did more than wink at me—you nearly killed me!”
“I must go,” said Ilam. “I have an appointment—I——”
He moved slightly.
“Let me advise you not to move,” Jetsam warned him, raising the revolver an inch or so. “It mightn’t be very good for your constitution. You must grasp, the fact that you are being held up. A worn-out operation, you will say—a trick lacking in novelty! Yes; but one, nevertheless, based on the fundamental human instincts, and therefore pretty certain to succeed. Indeed, I am surprised how simple it is. You might fancy from my easy bearing that I had devoted a lifetime to holding people up. Not in the least. I have never held anyone up before. And yet, how well I am succeeding! The thing works like a charm; merely because you can see in my eye that I mean to be obeyed.”
“I suppose you want money?” said Ilam savagely.
“I don’t want impudence!” retorted Jetsam. “Apologize, if you please, my friend!”
“What have I said?”