There was no reply, only Lynne’s eyes continued to stare rather vacantly at Mike.
“Say, did you hear me?�
A faint nod was the only reply, and the eyes closed again. Mike shrugged his shoulders and resumed the reading of the paper; he was reading the conditions now, and they proved to be of interest.
Lynne moved his right arm, placed that hand to his head, and then dropped it back upon the floor again, in its former position. Mike looked up, saw the act, and continued to read.
Lynne repeated the performance; then he did it a third time; then a fourth; then a fifth, and at the fifth time Mike paid no attention to him.
Each time that Lynne’s hand fell back to the floor, it came down a trifle closer to his body, and when it fell the sixth time it shot beneath him and grasped the butt of the gun.
Mike saw the act this time and started forward; but he was not quick enough.
The gun was leveled at him before he could grasp the hand that held it, and the calm voice of Carleton Lynne said:
“Put up your hands, Mike, and do it now! I’ve got strength enough to send a couple of these eight bullets into you before you can reach me. Sit down again on that chair, and we’ll discuss the details, Michael.�