“You didn’t run,” said the latter. “Thought it was all over, I suppose. Well, it isn’t.” He was grinning coldly, and was now deliberate and unexcited, though two crimson spots glowed in his cheeks, betraying the presence of passion.
“Don’t reach for that gun!” he warned Trevison. “I’ll blow a hole through you if you wriggle a finger!” Watching Trevison, he spoke to Braman: “You got a back room here?”
The banker stepped around the end of the counter and opened a door behind the wire netting. “Right here,” he directed.
Corrigan indicated the door with a jerking movement of the head. “Move!” he said shortly, to Trevison. The latter’s lips parted in a cold, amused grin, and he hesitated slightly, yielding presently.
An instant later the three were standing in the middle of a large room, empty except for a cot upon which Braman slept, some clothing hanging on the walls, a bench and a chair. Corrigan ordered the banker to clear the room. When that had been done, Corrigan spoke again to the banker:
A snapping alertness of the eyes indicated that Trevison knew what was coming. That was the reason he had been so quiescent this far; it was why he made no objection when Braman passed his hands over his clothing in search of other weapons, after his pistol had been lifted from its holster by the banker.
“Now get out of here and lock the doors!” ordered Corrigan. “And let nobody come in!”
Braman retired, grinning expectantly.
Then Corrigan backed away until he came to the wall. Reaching far up, he hung his revolver on a nail.