“I was going to tell you about that,” replied our hero. “If you see a revolver in his hand, you must drop behind the counter as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, and I won’t waste no time about it, either.”
“No, you’d better not,” said the young Vermonter; and he had barely time to dart behind the door, when old Gunwagner placed his hand upon the latch, and burst into the room. His eye fell upon Bob Hunter, who stood directly in front of him, but about two thirds of the way across the room.
The old fence recognized him instantly, and with a fiendish shout made for the lad, as if he meant annihilation. He had not proceeded far, however, when young Randolph bounded from behind the door, and fell upon his shoulders, bearing him to the floor.
A yell of terror escaped from the old villain, that told clearly of his alarm. He had not thought of Herbert until now. He was at a loss to know what caused the noise, when the trap door slipped back with such a resounding crash.
But when his eyes fell upon Bob Hunter, he readily jumped at the conclusion that he alone had caused the rumpus. Now, however, he was stunned at this unexpected assault from the rear. When Herbert and the old man fell to the floor, Bob Hunter was quickly at his friend’s side, ready to take a hand in the struggle, if needed.
While old Gunwagner was a cruel, heartless man, he nevertheless lacked genuine courage. Like the majority of men of his class, he was a coward at heart. He therefore readily gave up the struggle, when surprised by Herbert Randolph.
“It’s your turn now, old man,” said our young hero, triumphantly. “Last night you pounced upon me, and seemed to like it. Now perhaps you will enjoy this!”
A coarse oath, characteristic of the old villain, was the reply.
“You may as well submit decently. You are in our power now, and if you behave yourself, you will save us the necessity of compelling you to obey.”