Part 18 (1/2)
”I have every confidence in your professional honour,” P Sybarite replied blandly, ”up to the certain point to which we have attained to-night But the truth is--I need the hed profoundly ”I'o the extreainst any such dangerous course”
”Dangerous?”
”If you interfere with o to the police”
”The police?” Penfield elaborated an inflexion of derision ”I keep this precinct in my vest pocket”
”Possibly--so far as concerns yourhouse
But , you refuse to sub just that, sir!”
Again the ga
Moving to the wall, he pressed a call-button, and simultaneously whipped a revolver into view ”I hope you're not ars messy And then I hate to havea posse, I take it?” enquired P Sybarite, likewise on his feet
”Half a dozen huskies,” assented the other ”If you know your little book, you'll co”
”It's too bad,” P Sybarite regretted pensively--and cast a desperate glance round the room
What he saw afforded hiuarded on the farther side The s, though curtained, were as indubitably locked and further protected by steel outside blinds
Besides, Penfield bulked big and near at hand, a weapon of the uest
But exactly at the moment when despair entered into the heart of the little ether his cool assuh the house a crash so heavy that its muffled thunder penetrated even the closed door of the lounge Another followed it instantly, and at deliberate intervals a third and fourth
Penfield blenched His eyes wavered He punched the bell-button a second time
The door was throide and--with the instantaneous effect of a jack-in-the-box--Pete showed a dirty-grey face of fright on the threshold
”Good Lord, boss!” he yelled ”Run for yo' life! We's raided!”
He vanished
With an oath, Penfield started toward the door--and instantly P
Sybarite shot at his gun hand like a terrier at the throat of a rat
Moa, P Sybarite closed one set of sinewy fingers tight round his right wrist, and with the other seized and wrested the revolver away The incident was history in a twinkling: P Sybarite sprang back, ar, Penfield threw him a cry of enveno up the stairs, three steps and an oath at a bound, by the ti host with a reminder superfluously ironic:
”The Bizarre at seven--don't forget!”