Johnson stooped and laid down the revolver he had taken from his bureau.
“Now step inside, and step lively,” said the voice.
“Who are you?” asked Johnson steadily.
He strained his eyes to pierce the darkness, and saw the figure now. It was standing by his desk, and the shine of something in its hand warned him that the threat was no idle one.
“Never met me?” There was a chuckle of laughter in the voice of the Unknown. “I’ll bet you haven’t! Friend—meet the Frog!”
“The Frog?” Johnson repeated the words mechanically.
“One name’s as good as another. That will do for mine,” said the stranger. “Throw over the key of your desk.”
There was a silence.
“I haven’t my key here,” said Johnson. “It is in the bedroom.”
“Stay where you are,” warned the voice.