“Act it? I—I don’t follow.”
“Rehearse it. Let me show you how it works. We’ll go through it point by point—and if you can show me a weak spot, I’ll thank you with all my heart.”
As he spoke, eagerly and enthusiastically, but still almost in a whisper, the General had hurried across to the chair that held his ugly leather bag.
“See here!” He had opened his bag, and the electric light flashed upon the bright metal of a pistol. “Here—another one,” and the light flashed again. “A revolver for him and for me. Now help me to rehearse the trick. Here. Take your weapon. You see it’s open at the breech.”
He had come to the fireplace and was offering one of the two revolvers.
Mr. Ridsdale hesitated about taking it. “Really, you know, General, I doubt if I ought to encourage you in——”
“Catch hold. You’re not afraid of firearms, are you?” And the General smiled.
“No, of course not.”
Mr. Ridsdale took the pistol, and the General hurried across the room to the door that led into the hall.
“Watch me carefully,” he whispered. “I am locking this door.”