"Have they robbed the Bank of England?" he gasped.
From without came the sharp rattle of shod hoofs against the rocky ground.
"It is Sefton and Marco who return," murmured Garcia, his hand at his mustache, a look of great thoughtfulness in his eyes. "Now there will be another kind of talk!"
And he looked regretfully toward the revolver lying under Drennen's bench.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE SPEAKING OF GUNS
Max had heard, whirled and came running back to the door.
"Stand aside!" he called to Drennen. "Those men are my prisoners."
Drennen made no answer. Mindful of the weapons on the floor he caught them up and threw them far out into the underbrush. His rifle ready in both hands, his purpose standing naked in his eyes, he stepped out after Max.