“Get them yourself if you want them.”
“Remember my threat! If you move, I’ll fire.”
“Oh, I can’t get away. I’m cornered.”
A sardonic grin overspread the dark, bearded face of the rascal, and laying his pistol on the floor within easy reach as he knelt before the drawer, he seized the handle.
Then he gave a pull.
But the drawer refused to open.
“It’s locked!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, no,” replied Frank. “It sticks. Use both hands.”
The thief complied and gave a long, strong pull.
At the same moment Frank turned a switch, which sent a powerful electric current into the metal handle of the drawer, through the wire he had hooked on there.