“What was it?”
“That he wanted to get ’is revolver back. I might ’a’ lost my job if I hadn’t been mighty careful.”
“What’d you do?”
“When he came to the desk and asked for Smithers, I was sure who he was right away. If I’d stopped to think, I might not ’a’ been so sure, and I’m glad now I didn’t stop.”
“What did you do?” repeated Guy impatiently.
“I leaned over—this way—so my face almost touched his, and said: ‘Say, mister, did you lose a revolver in the fog the other night?’”
“What did he do?”
“I thought he was going to drop,” replied Artie with a smart air. “I jumped back quick so ’t could look at ’im, an’ ’is face got as pale as a corpse. He spit out a few noises, an’ then sputtered:
“‘Did I lose a revolver in the fog? What makes you ask that question?’
“‘I was just wondering if you owned the one Mr. Smithers found,’ I replied.