"Well, there isn't any reason that you shouldn't take them off, is there?"
"How do I know that?" snapped Danny.
"Look here," said Grant good-naturedly, "a minute ago you wanted a gamble. Well, here's one. If you take your gloves off, I'll tell you whether you've won or not."
"And if I lose?"
"Well, I have no warrant, you know." And Grant smiled easily into the gimlet eyes boring into his own.
Danny's eyelids lifted. His old nonchalance came back. He drew his right glove off and held out his hand. Grant glanced at it and nodded. Then he slipped off his left glove and extended his hand, and as he did so the right hand went back into his coat pocket.
The left hand that lay open to Grant's gaze was clean and unscarred.
"You win, Miller," said Grant. "You're a sportsman." And the slight bulge in Danny's right-hand coat pocket disappeared.
"You'll let me know the minute you have a brainwave, won't you?" Grant said as they parted, and Miller promised.
"Don't you worry," he said. "I don't let my brain go back on me and get away with it."