“I’ll tell you in a second,” I said, picking up the handcuff, “what’s this thing?”
Myra gave a little scream, “Don’t touch it!” she cried.
“Why not… is it a man-trap?”
There was a sudden sharp click. The springs moved forward, the cogwheels spun and I found the handcuff on my wrist.
“You big sap!” Myra said furiously.
“Why, it is a man-trap!” I said, admiring the thing. “That’s smart. There might be a fortune in it.”
Myra swung her legs off the bed and hobbled over to me. “Didn’t I tell you not to touch it?”
I took hold of the handcuff and jerked at it. “I’ll get it off,” I said calmly. “I was glad to see it work.”
“You won’t get it off,” Myra said, nearly crying. “Oh, I could brain you!”
And she was right. The handcuff had me tight round the wrist and nothing I could do would shift it. The chain to which it was fastened only allowed me a few feet from the wall.