"We will have no quibbling, Mr. Livingstone. You have taken twenty-five thousand dollars of my money, and you have given me in exchange a worthless imitation. Not satisfied with that, you have stolen my genuine opal."
"Damn you——"
Mr. Livingstone made a movement as though to strike, but Mr. Mitchel stepped quickly back, and, quietly bringing forward his right arm, which had been held behind his back, it became evident that he held in his hand a revolver of large calibre. He did not raise the weapon, however, but merely remarked:
"I am armed. Think before you act."
"Your infernal accusation astounds me," growled Mr. Livingstone. "I hardly know what to say to you."
"There is nothing to say, sir. You have no alternative but to give me my property. Yes, you have an alternative,—you may go to prison."
"To prison!" The man laughed, but it was not a hearty laugh.
"Yes, to prison. I believe that is the proper lodging-place for a thief."
"Take care!" cried Mr. Livingstone, advancing upon Mr. Mitchel.
"Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Mitchel, still without raising his weapon. At this the man stopped as quickly as he had when the weapon was first shown. He seemed confounded when the detective stepped into view.