"Hand me an easy one."
"You ought to know. You're the one that stole them, and you stole them for Jurgens and his pals."
"Part of that's on the level. I did lift the bag of sparks, and it really seems as though I went to all that trouble for Jurgens and his pals. Anyhow, I didn't help myself so you could see it. Don't get to hearing funny noises under your bonnet, now, but drop the club and let's be sociable. If you—— Wow, but you're chain lightning, and then some!"
Quick as a flash Matt had thrown the club. It struck the revolver in Dashington's hand and knocked it clear to the opposite side of the room.
Before Dashington could recover it, Matt was upon him and there was a short wrestling match, catch-as-catch-can. Being far and away Dashington's superior in science, Matt was only about two minutes in laying his antagonist on his back. When they fell, they knocked over a table, and the racket it made brought a stifled cry to Dashington's lips.
"They'll get wise to us! You're queering yourself, King. Let me up, quick! I can hear some one coming."
"You're my prisoner!" said Matt sharply.
"We'll both be prisoners of Jurgens and his gang if you don't take a tumble to the rights of this. Let me up, I tell you, or——"
Just then the hurrying steps outside reached the door.
"What's going on here, Matt?" came the excited voice of Dick Ferral, as he and Carl flung into the room.