"Not a bit of it. How in the world do you manage to get yourself up so thoroughly?"
"It's a knack of mine. I say, Dick, got anything on hand?"
"No."
"Lend me your revolvers, then, will you? Mine I forgot when I left the house."
"Did you? That's funny, for I forgot mine also. I haven't got so good a weapon about me as a jack-knife."
"Then," and I spoke very sternly, and quickly drawing a revolver, placed it to his temple, "then consider yourself my prisoner."
"Wh-what do you mean?" he gasped.
"I'll show you."
"This must be a joke of yours," said the trembling wretch.
"It will be a sorry joke for you," said I. "Hold out your hands."