The secret-service man pushed his prisoners into chairs and left the bedroom.
Kitty did not care how gruff the voice was; it was decidedly pleasant in her ears.

Gingerly she picked up one of the revolvers.

Kitty Conover with shooting irons in her hands, like a movie actress! She heard a whistle.

After this an interval of silence, save for the ticking of the alarm clock on the stand.

She eyed the blindfolded men speculatively, swung out of bed, and put on her stockings and sandals; then she sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the sequence.