An instant Verbeck waited; then he stepped into the room, found the electric switch, and snapped on the lights, and leveled his automatic.
The man before the desk whirled with a snarl that showed two rows of jagged, uneven, yellow teeth. He took in the situation at a glance, saw Muggs at the window, and Verbeck at the door, and knew he had been caught in a trap. His eyes narrowed and flashed; he bent forward, giving the appearance of a rat at bay, and his hand dropped slowly toward his hip.
“Better not!” There was a certain quality in Verbeck’s voice that told the burglar the man before him was neither nervous nor afraid, and would shoot if necessary. The thief’s hands went above his head in token of surrender, and the belligerent light that had been in his eyes faded.
“It appears,” said Verbeck, “that we have discovered you in a delicate position.”
“Aw, don’t try to be clever! I guess you’ve got me, all right!”
“Rather unceremonious, this call,” Verbeck went on. “Why didn’t you send up your card from the office?”
“Aw——”
“Be seated, please!”
Still holding his hands above his head, the burglar took the chair Verbeck indicated.
“Now, Muggs——” Verbeck said.