Clay put his foot against the door to prevent it from being closed and drew his hand from the overcoat pocket. In the hand nestled a blue-nosed persuader.
Unless the eyes peering into the night were bad barometers of their owner's inner state, he was in a panic of fear.
"Love o' Gawd, d-don't shoot!" he chattered. "I ain't nobody but the caretaker."
He backed slowly away, followed by Lindsay. The barrel of the thirty-eight held his eyes fascinated. By the light of his flash Clay discovered the man to be a chalk-faced little inconsequent.
"Say, don't point that at me," the old fellow implored.
"Are you alone?"
"I told you I was."
"Is Jerry comin' himself with the others?"
"They don't none of them tell me nothin'. I'm nobody. I'm only Joey."
"Unload what you know. Quick. I'm in a hurry."