It reflected the large portrait of the late Judge Henley hanging on the opposite wall, and--by all the gods!--I thought I saw it move, settle back into position! I was upon my feet instantly, swinging aside into a better situation for defense.

Perhaps that seeming movement, swift and elusive, might be a figment of imagination, a mere trembling of the glass.

But I was taking no chances.

The very conception of some hidden peril threatening me from behind awoke the savage in me instantly.

Before Coombs could realize what had occurred I had the gun muzzle at the side of his head.
"Now answer," I commanded sharply.