Jimmie's hand was on his automatic as the car halted in front of him. Jackson saw what was in the boy's mind and laid a hand on his arm.
"None of that!" he said.
"Well, I'm not goin' to be—"
Jackson forced the revolver out of the boy's hand as he brought it out of his pocket.
"They've got us," he whispered, "and will be only too glad of an excuse to shoot us down in cold blood."
"Well!"
This from Thomas Q. Collins, who sat in the front seat, looking at the two as if he could bite them in pieces!
Jimmie looked sullenly toward his automatic, in Jackson's hand, and said not a word. Jackson stepped forward.
"You've got us!" he said.
"You bet we have!" gloated Collins. "Where did that Nestor boy go with the man he picked up by the fire?"