“The matter is entirely in your own hands,” Peter reminded him. “We are in no hurry.”
Mr. Burr smiled genially.
“You make me think better of humanity,” he confessed. “A month ago we had a man here—got him along somehow or another—and I had to tell him that he was up against it like you two are. My! the fuss he made! Kind of saddened me to think a man should be such a coward.”
“Some people like that,” Sogrange remarked. “By the bye, Mr. Burr, you’ll pardon my curiosity. Whom have we to thank for our introduction here to-night?”
“I don’t know as there’s any particular harm in telling you,” Mr. Burr replied—
“Nor any particular good,” a man who was standing by his side interrupted. “Say, Phil, you drag these things out too much. Are there any questions you’ve got to ask ‘em, or any property to collect?”
“Nothing of the sort,” Mr. Burr admitted.
“Then let the gang get to work,” the other declared.
The two men were suddenly conscious that they were being surrounded. Peter’s hand stole on to the butt of his revolver. Sogrange rose slowly to his feet. His hands were thrust out in front of him with the thumbs turned down. The four fingers of each hand flashed for a minute through the air. Mr. Philip Burr lost all his self-control.
“Say, where the devil did you learn that trick?” he cried.