At that instant a flushed and furious-looking man burst into the parlor, carrying a revolver in his hand.
“Villain!” cried the man. “That is my wife!”
“Well, this is jolly!” muttered Merry, wheeling to face the newcomer.
“Reginald!” burst from the lips of the woman.
The man paid no attention to her, but he glared at Merry in a murderous manner, shaking the revolver.
“Wretch!” he snarled.
He was a man about thirty years of age, well dressed, but somewhat dissipated in appearance. He seemed wrought up to a pitch of great fury.
“My dear sir,” said Merry, with the utmost coolness, “you had better be careful with that revolver.”
“Be careful!” grated the angry husband. “I’ll be careful with it! I’ll fill you full of lead!”
“Now, I wouldn’t do that. You might be sorry for it afterward.”