"I've got to it at last, an' now we'll see what Teddy an' Dan have to say when I flash the whole lot of stuff up with nobody to help me. I reckon——"
He did not finish the sentence, for at that moment Long Jim stepped directly in front of him, as he asked:
"Did you leave anything here, my son?"
"No—I—I—that is—you see——"
Sam was so frightened that he could not say another word. It seemed as if his tongue was swollen to twice its natural size, while his throat was parched and dry, and to make bad matters worse, he had entirely neglected to invent a plausible excuse for his presence there in case of an interruption.
"I asked if you'd left anything here?" Long Jim repeated, very mildly.
"Well—well—— You see I jest come down to—to—— I thought, perhaps, I might find something, but it's time I was gettin' back to the fair, 'cause the folks will be needin' me."
As he spoke he attempted to back toward the door, but before taking half a dozen steps a cry of fear burst from his lips, for a heavy hand was laid with no gentle force on his shirt collar, and he staggered forward helplessly.
"That's an invitation for you to hold on a bit, an' have a little conversation with two gentlemen who are mighty curious to know why you came here," Long Jim said, grimly. "You're goin' to tell us the whole partic'lars, or there won't be enough left of you to be seen under a microscope."
Sam made no reply. He was literally dazed with fear, and just at that moment he thought the life of a detective very disagreeable.