"Stop! If you drop that door—you’ll drop with it."
Patsy, crouching on the floor near the entrance to the stall, turned around as if electrified.
He found himself covered with an automatic revolver, scarce six feet away, and beheld, with a gasp of momentary dismay, the scowling, white face of Gaston Goulard.
"Gee whiz! the trick’s off!" leaped like a flash through his mind.
"You’ll be a dead one if you drop that door," Goulard added sternly.
"I’ll not drop it. I wasn’t going to drop it," said Patsy, quickly resorting to a subterfuge.[Pg 32]
"You wasn’t, eh?"
"Divil a drop! I was only looking to see what’s down there. I——”
"You keep your hands in front of you," Goulard snapped sharply, when Patsy’s right hand stole nearer his pocket. "If any gun is to be used, it will be this one. Come up, you fellows, and be quick about it. Get a grip on this rat and strap his arms behind him. Move lively."
The heads of Corson and Jake Mullen had appeared above the stall floor, both having heard the above conversation, but both were so startled by the scene that they had come no farther. They now hastened to obey, however, followed by Sampson, all three of whom seized Patsy quickly and secured his arms behind him.