To do the man justice he betrayed more amazement than alarm. He backed away a pace and his hand travelled upward to the communicator.
"If you touch that cable I'll put a bullet through your wrist," said
Barraclough. "Sit down and attend to me."
He obeyed, shaking his head perplexedly.
"Damn me, if I can get the strength of it."
"Then listen," said Barraclough, steadying his aim along the ash rail of the luggage rack, "and keep your hands in your lap. I'm going to carry my scheme through even if I have to shoot you and lots like you. My patience has run out—understand? I've been fooled and badgered and headed off and shot at for as long as I can stand. The boot's on the other leg now and whoever tries to stop me or follow me or get in my way will find all the trouble he's looking for."
"Yes, but it seems to me," said the big man plaintively, "that it's you who's looking for trouble. Been a nice thing if that bag had caught me on the lid. There were two fifty pound bells inside and a coil of wire for my trapeze act."
"Your what?" said Barraclough.
"Trapeze act. Done in my tour nicely, that would."
Barraclough's eyes narrowed and he looked at the man closely.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "What's your name?"