"'Pon my soul, I'm popular this morning!" Harleston remarked, sitting
up.

Instantly the new-comer covered him with his revolver.

"What did you say?" Sparrow inquired from the sitting-room, just as the
stranger appeared around the corner.

Like a flash, the latter's revolver shifted to him.

"Easy there!" said he.

Sparrow sprang up--then he laughed.

"Easy yourself!" said he. "Marston, let this gentleman see your hand."

Marston came slowly forward until he stood a little behind but
sufficiently in view to enable the stranger to see that he himself was
covered by an automatic.

"For heaven's sake, Crenshaw," said Sparrow, "don't let us get to
shooting here! If you wing me, Marston will wing you, and we'll only
stir up a mess for ourselves."

"Then hand over the letter," said Crenshaw

"Do you fancy we would be hunting it if we had it?"

"I don't fancy--produce the goods!"