“No tricks, now! Open your door! I've got a gun on you—I've got a gun on you!” The rusty old key turned and the door swung back. As it opened, Beveridge broke out of the weeds, with Pink close after, and the three men stood bewildered, motionless, staring at the square-built figure and quiet face of—Henry Smiley.
They could not speak. Even Beveridge had lowered his weapon.
“Put up your guns, boys,” said Henry, with a sort of smile. “Put up your guns; I 'll go back with you.”
CHAPTER XIV—HARBOR LIGHTS
BEVERIDGE recovered first, and said in a businesslike way, “You 'll have to give me your weapons.”