He had no opportunity to say more, for Margate and Busby rushed out of the house at that moment, and Patsy found himself confronted by the four men, and his escape a decidedly remote possibility.
“What’s this, Dunbar?” Margate demanded sharply. “Who is the fellow. What was he doing here?”
“It’s easy to say what he was doing, Dave,” replied Dunbar, pointing to the window. “It’s not so easy to say who he is.”
“He’s an infernal spy, Dave, that’s what he is,” put in Haley.
“We’ll very soon find out,” said Margate, glaring at Patsy in the faint glow cast from the curtained window. “Bring him into the house. Keep him covered, mind you, and shoot him if he lowers a finger.”
“Let me alone for that,” growled Dunbar. “Get a move on, young fellow, or you’ll hear something drop.”
Patsy made no comments, nor offered any resistance. He followed Margate and Busby into the house, their two confederates bringing up in the rear. He heard one of them close and bolt the heavy door, while he passed through a dimly lighted passageway, and he presently found himself confronted by all four in the glare of the chemist’s laboratory.
Margate, in his apprehension and excitement, had not delayed to resume his disguise. Viewing Patsy in the bright light, moreover, he instantly penetrated that worn by the detective, partly because of the suspicion he already entertained.
“Just as I thought,” he cried quickly. “He is one of Carter’s push, that bright rat known as Patsy Garvan. Get his guns, Haley, and secure his hands behind him. Be sure you make them fast. Push up that window, Busby, and pull the curtain to the top. We’ll mighty soon find out what sent him here and where we stand.”
He tore off Patsy’s disguise while speaking, and his confederates hastened to obey his commands. In less time than would be required to describe their doings in detail, Patsy was deprived of his two revolvers, his arms secured behind him, the window closed, and the curtain completely drawn, precluding further observation from outside.