"It is your turn now, Johnny," he said sneeringly, "but it won't last long. There is a sentinel outside."
"I supposed so; and any noise either one of you make will be the last sound you'll utter in this world. That is no idle threat, gentlemen; so don't take the chance. My life is at stake in this game I'm playing, and I shall shoot to kill."
"How the devil did you get here?"
"We will discuss that when we have more time. Lieutenant Raymond, I will trouble you to step around back of the desk—no, the other way; I advise you not to be tricky. Colonel Pickney, sit up in your chair, and put your hands behind you in through the openings in the chair back. Oh, yes you will! Don't be a fool, man! What is this—a hair trigger?"
I never saw anyone more thoroughly angry; he would have killed me with the utmost pleasure, and, indeed, for an instant, I expected him to actually make the attempt. But my eyes glared into his, and the pearl-handled revolver was within six inches of his head, and the man was not insane. Slowly, reluctantly, as though actually forced into the action, his arms were thrust backward into a posture of helplessness. His lips sputtered, but he could not even swear.
