It was a pity that he was drunk--he would have been a perfect specimen of young manhood, else.
The young man on the front seat beside him turned suddenly on those behind.

The lower half of his face was covered with a black muffler.
He had a gun, and he "cut down" on the group with disconcerting realism.
"Hands up!" he intoned fearsomely.

"I am the mysterious lone bandit of the boulevards.

Your jewels are the price of your lives!" The six-shooter wavered, looking bleakly at one and then another.
After the first stunned interval, a shout of laughter went up from those behind.

"Good! Good idea!" one approved.