In the glare of a distant lightning flash, Dalton, though struggling furiously, caught the gleam of a polished blade at his throat, and a glimpse of the flaming eyes in the face above him.
He shrank, gasping for breath, as the truth dawned upon him; and then the voice of another sounded close beside the open carriage.
"Want any help, Chick?"
Nick's youthful assistant, to whom a wire had been sent from the house of the snake charmer, had appeared like an apparition out of the roadside gloom.
"Ah! you're here, Patsy!" muttered Chick. "Yes. Clap a gag into this cur's mouth. We'll choke off his pipes first of all."
Dalton uttered a vicious growl, then felt the point of the knife pierce the skin at his throat, and he wisely relapsed into silence.
For Patsy to fish out a gag, and bind it securely in the scoundrel's mouth, was the work of a few moments only.
Then Chick jerked Dalton up from the rear cushion and out into the road, in far less time than is taken to record it.
"Off with his coat and hat, Patsy," he hurriedly commanded. "Now the false beard, my lad. Now get into them yourself, as quickly as you can."
"I'm all in, Chick," chuckled Patsy, working like a trooper.