ing."

Breton drew back into the angle of the porch; Spargo quitted his
protecting bush and took the other angle. The door opened. And they
heard Myerst's voice, threatening, commanding in tone.

"Now, remember all I've said! And don't you forget--I've the whip hand
of both of you--the whip hand!"

Then Myerst turned and stepped out into the grey light--to find himself
confronted by an athletic young man who held the muzzle of an ugly
revolver within two inches of the bridge of his nose and in a
remarkably firm and steady grip. Another glance showed him the figure
of a second business-like looking young man at his side, whose attitude
showed a desire to grapple with him.

"Good-morning, Mr. Myerst," said Breton with cold and ironic
politeness. "We are glad to meet you so unexpectedly. And--I must
trouble you to put up your hands. Quick!"

Myerst made one hurried movement of his right hand towards his hip, but
a sudden growl from Breton made him shift it just as quickly above his
head, whither the left followed it. Breton laughed softly.

"That's wise, Mr. Myerst," he said, keeping his revolver steadily
pointed at his prisoner's nose. "Discretion will certainly be the
better part of your valour on this occasion. Spargo--may I trouble you
to see what Mr. Myerst carries in his pockets? Go through them
carefully. Not for papers or documents--just now. We can leave that
matter--we've plenty of time. See if he's got a weapon of any sort on
him, Spargo--that's the important thing."

Considering that Spargo had never gone through the experience of
searching a man before, he made sharp and creditable work of seeing
what the prisoner carried. And he forthwith drew out and exhibited a
revolver, while Myerst, finding his tongue, cursed them both, heartily
and with profusion.

"Excellent!" said Breton, laughing again. "Sure he's got nothing else
on him that's dangerous, Spargo? All right. Now, Mr. Myerst, right
about face! Walk into the cottage, hands up, and remember there are two
revolvers behind your back. March!"

Myerst obeyed this peremptory order with more curses. The three walked
into the cottage. Breton kept his eye on his captive; Spargo gave a
glance at the two old men. Cardlestone, white and shaking, was lying
back in his chair; Elphick, scarcely less alarmed, had risen, and was
coming forward with trembling limbs.

"Wait a moment," said Breton, soothingly. "Don't alarm yourself. We'll
deal with Mr. Myerst h