The door was banged shut, and Shadow was left to his own reflections in the cramped confines of the dark and moldy-smelling closet.
He was left here until all danger of a raid was thought by the proprietor to be past.
Then he was brought out.
"What did you mean by smashing the lamps and putting them out?" was sternly demanded of him.
Shadow looked vacantly at them.
"Come, come!" and he was given a cuff alongside of his head. "Come, give us an answer, or I'll 'liven you up with something heavier than my hand."
While looking wonderingly and inquiringly at them Shadow pointed first to his mouth and then to his ear.
One of them held a revolver close to the back of his head, unseen by him, and then cocked the weapon, thinking that at the click Shadow would certainly give a start if he was not really deaf.
Not a muscle of face or body could be seen to even twitch.
"It's straight, I guess," said this fellow, as he let down the hammer of the weapon and returned it to his pocket.