The Flyman paid no attention to the statement. He merely reiterated his request.
'Now, Mr Burton, I don't want no patter. You fork up before there's trouble.'
The young gentleman, holding his hand behind his back, was smiling in the other's face.
'Gently, Flyman. Let's know exactly where we are before we come to business.' The Flyman flung himself upon him without another word. Mr Burton never for a moment seemed to lose his self-possession. 'You ass! what do you suppose you're going to gain by this?'
While they struggled, the bedroom door was suddenly slammed to. There was a clicking sound. The continuation of the argument was instantly deferred. Mr Burton hurried to the door.
'They've caught us napping; it's locked. Well, Flyman, I hope you're satisfied. Owing to your "handiness," of which we have heard so much, in our turn we are trapped.'
CHAPTER XVII
[THE FIGURES ON THE BED]
'At anyrate,' remarked Miss Bewicke, as, turning the key in the lock, she shut herself and Miss Broad inside the dining-room, 'you can't get at us for a time.'
The two girls stood and listened. They heard the handle tried; the rapping at the panel.