And then heavy feet come trampling across the threshold. Men in police uniform fill up the doorway, and the foremost of them says, as he approaches the Prodigal:
“Franz Francoise, I arrest you in the name of the law!”
The priest and his two witnesses start perceptibly, and turn their faces toward Franz. Papa and Mamma slink back toward the inner room. Leslie lifts her head and looks wonderingly at the new-comers.
Only Franz remains undisturbed. With a swift movement, he whisks out a pair of revolvers and presents them, muzzle foremost, to the speaker.
“Not just yet!” he says coolly; “I ain’t quite ready. Ye’ve interrupted me, and ye’ll have to wait.”
One of his hands is slightly uplifted and, for just an instant, his head turns toward the inner room.
The two witnesses, making way for the police, lounge nearer to Papa and Mamma.
“You had better not resist, Franz Francoise,” says the leader once more. “You can’t escape us now.”
“No; I s’pose not,” assents Franz. “Oh, I know I’m cornered, but wait.”
He moves aside and looks down upon Leslie.