When Old King Brady reached the boy he was pulling a big navy revolver out of the man's hip pocket.
"Got him, Harry?"
"Safe, Old King Brady."
"Get him upon his feet."
They raised the man, and now got a good square look at him.
He was a short, heavily-built fellow, clad in rags, and had as villainous a face as any they had ever seen.
The man was trembling with fear.
It was plain he was an arrant coward.
When the detectives looked him over, Old King Brady asked him:
"Say, what's your name?"