"'Fraid you couldn't make it," exclaimed the surgeon.
"Had to dynamite a safe down in the cellar--hear anything?"
Dr. Ferris shook his head, and turned to the others.
"Mr. Lichtenstein," he said, "of the secret service ... Lichtenstein, some of these youngsters don't want to mix up in this. Tell them things."
Lichtenstein smiled broadly. "Then I'll have to operate," he said. And he lifted his pistol ostentatiously. "Young men," he went on, "if you aren't willing to make a decent citizen of Blizzard, why I must arrest him, and send him to the chair, or if he resists arrest, I must make a decent dead man of him--"
In the distance there rose suddenly the powerful cries of the legless man. "All ready," he cried, "bring on your ether."
"Who's going to help me?" asked Dr. Ferris.
The three young surgeons stepped quickly forward.
"Good," said Dr. Ferris. "He's strong as a bull. You come with me, Jordyce, and you two wait within hearing just outside the door."
"One moment," said Lichtenstein, "where's young Allen?"