“Go ahead! And remember—my finger always pressing the trigger!”
As Burns came forward, infinitely puzzled, the boy turned slowly, so that the “muzzle” of the pipe continued to cover the would-be bullion thief. Gingerly Iowa reached out with his foot and shoved the chair back to the wall, and turning, backed into it and sat down. With the shadow of a grin on his face, he demanded, “Wot next?”
“Now, slowly let your left arm down at full length on the table. There—hand is on the key, isn’t it?
“Now,” continued Wilson, who never for an instant allowed his eyes to wander from the man’s face, “now feel with your fingers at the back of the key, and find a screw-head, standing up.”
“Which one? There are two or three,” said Iowa craftily.
“No, there are not. There’s just one. And I give you ‘three’ to find it,” said the young operator sharply. “One, two—”
“Oh, go on! I got it!” exclaimed Iowa angrily.
“Below the screw-head is a binding-nut. Loosen it, and turn it leftwise. Found it? Now take hold of the screw-head again, and turn it to the left. It turns free, doesn’t it?”
“Sure.”
“Turn it about four times completely around. Now the binding nut again, down, the other way, till it’s tight. Got it?