“You agree?”
“Yes.”
“All right; Truem, open the door just enough to let him through,” said Chot, taking up a position half behind the door, his revolver ready for use.
Truem did as requested, and the form of a man came quickly through, and seeing Chot, leveled a revolver at him and fired.
But Truem had seen the move, and he knocked up the smuggler’s arm. The bullet whistled harmlessly against the ceiling of the passageway. Then the smuggler found that he had tackled more than he could handle, for both boys leaped on him, threw him quickly to the floor, and choked him into complete submission.
“I surrender,” he cried faintly, as Chot’s grip tightened on his throat.
“You told us that before, then tried treachery,” said Truem. “Don’t let go of him, Chot.”
But such an appealing look came into the man’s eyes that Chot, after taking his revolver, and feeling in his pockets for other weapons, released him and jumped to his feet.
The smuggler was dazed. His head had struck the stone floor with no gentle force, and he gasped slightly as he drew his lungs full of air.
“You’ve got me, all right,” he said. “There ain’t no more fight in me.”