time-honored fashion of the men of the road, and a hat pulled well down
over the eyes completed the disguise.

"Well, Mr. Bryce," said the man in front, "what have you got to say for
yourself?"

"It's a funny thing," remarked Bryce, with the adventures of Mr. Cumshaw
and the late Mr. Bradby in his mind, "it's funny how history repeats
itself."

The leader made a step forward and stared intently at Bryce. "You're the
man right enough," he said. "Where's your pal?"

"Ask me something easy," sneered Bryce, "and I'd be obliged if you'd let
me drop my hands awhile. This is getting fairly tiresome."

"You should have thought of that before you started that business," the
other one reminded him. "It's rather late now to be finding out the
flaws in your plans."

The sneering smile on Mr. Bryce's face broadened into a grin of triumph.
"Didn't you ever hear the proverb about glass-houses and the people who
live in them?" he enquired blandly.

The first speaker stared at him, but the other one said impatiently,
"Finish him off, Alick, and let's get it over."

The man called Alick answered in a subdued voice. Bryce did not catch
what he said, but supposed it to be a counsel of caution. His smile grew
in intensity, so much so that Alick snapped at him. "What the deuce are
you grinning at, you fat fool?" he demanded.

"You'll know soon enough," Bryce said with a chuckle. He looked right
past them into the shadows of the trees, on his face the joyful
expression of a man who sees the long-locked gates of his prison swing
open before him. Both men whirled round with a chorus of oaths. They
were quite positive that Bryce's mate had stolen a march on them and
crept up behind their backs. They had their heads turned away but for
the fraction of a second, but the time, short though it was, was plenty
long enough for Mr. Bryce. With an agility, remarkable in a man of his
weight and state of health, he faded into the landscape like some fat
fairy.

"Fooled!" said Alick's companion, and he whipped round to face his
prisoner, only to find that the keen-brained Mr. Bryce had vanished as
completely as if he had been blown off the face of the earth.

"Nice pair of goats we are," remarked Alick disgustedly.

The other said nothing, but stood for a moment in a state of indecision.
At that precise instant a pencil of flame shot out from one of the trees
immediately in front of them, and Alick dropped his revolver with a howl
of pain.