“You’ll take ’em, all right,” answered McGlory defiantly, “if you get ’em at all.”
“Come, come,” continued Tibbits impatiently. “I have men enough to take the clothes by force, but I don’t want to get them that way. Strip!”
Neither Matt nor McGlory made any move to obey the command.
“Oh, well,” observed Tibbits, “if you’re going to force a rough and tumble, that’s your lookout. Dimmock!” he called.
“What is it, Tibbits?” came Dimmock’s voice from the hall.
“Come in, and bring Sanders and Riley.”
“Wait a minute,” called Matt. With four armed men against him and McGlory, Matt saw the futility of resistance. “We’ll give you our clothes, Tibbits, but under protest.”
“I’ll put the protest on file,” grinned Tibbits. “Never mind bringing Sanders and Riley, Dimmock,” he shouted.
“I’m going to fight this out,” flared McGlory. “If they get my clothes, they’ll get ’em in rags. What’s the good of taking ’em, anyhow? The bank folks have never seen either of us, Matt—Tibbits took precious good care they shouldn’t see me.”
“As for that,” said Tibbits, “we want all the corroborative detail we can give the rôles Pearl and the young fellow are to play.”