They were frightened.
They did not dare to move, and doubtless they supposed that it would be possible to temporize.
In obedience to the stern command that the detective uttered, they raised their hands high above their heads and held them there, staring. The two revolvers he held, one in either hand, with the muzzles wavering from one to another and keeping each of them constantly covered, confirmed a sufficiently convincing argument.
“Juno?” said Nick without turning his head, and for the moment forgetting to imitate the voice of James Duryea.
She stared for a moment without replying. Then she moved forward until she stood near him, still staring.
“Yes?” she replied. And then as if impelled by a second thought she added: “What is it, Jimmy?”
Nick chuckled. He knew from the manner of her reply that he had already betrayed himself, but that she preferred to accept the deception as fact. Then he spoke calmly.
“I want you to know,” he said, still keeping the pistols wavering so that they covered all three of the men, “that I believe all that you said to me in that last interview we had. And now will you help me to do something? Will you, Juno?”
“Yes. I will help. You want me to disarm those men?”
“Yes. Tell them that you know me; that if they make the slightest move I’ll drop every one of them with a bullet; not dead, you understand; just maimed. I’ll shoot one knee out from under each one of them. Now go ahead, Juno. Be careful there, mister man, you who are called Maurice Delorme.