Going to the bar, he poured out a glass of whiskey, tossed it off deliberately, and, standing in front of Collinson, with his shoulder against the chimney and his hand resting lightly on his hip, cleared his throat.

Had Collinson been an observant man, he would have noticed that the two men dropped their eyes and moved their feet with a half impatient, perfunctory air of waiting.

Had he witnessed the stage-robbery, he would have recognized in the smooth-faced man the presence of "the orator." But he only gazed at him with his dull, imperturbable patience.
"We regret exceedingly to have to use force to a gentleman in his own house," began the orator blandly; "but we feel it our duty to prevent a repetition of the unhappy incident which occurred as we entered.

We desire that you should answer a few questions, and are deeply grateful that you are still able to do so,--which seemed extremely improbable a moment or two ago." He paused, coughed, and leaned back against the chimney.

"How many men have you here besides yourself ?" "Nary one," said Collinson.
The interrogator glanced at the other men, who had reentered.