"I’ll not drop it. I wasn’t going to drop it," said Patsy, quickly resorting to a subterfuge. "You wasn’t, eh?" "Divil a drop! I was only looking to see what’s down there. I----” "You keep your hands in front of you," Goulard snapped sharply, when Patsy’s right hand stole nearer his pocket. "If any gun is to be used, it will be this one. Come up, you fellows, and be quick about it. Get a grip on this rat and strap his arms behind him. Move lively." The heads of Corson and Jake Mullen had appeared above the stall floor, both having heard the above conversation, but both were so startled by the scene that they had come no farther. They now hastened to obey, however, followed by Sampson, all three of whom seized Patsy quickly and secured his arms behind him. Before this was accomplished, noting Goulard’s garments and traces of grease paint on his frowning face, Patsy hit upon the truth in so far as the rascal’s impersonation of the elder Mantell was concerned, as well as the nature of the crime in which these several scoundrels now were engaged. "The old man was Goulard himself. He has abducted Frank Mantell’s wife," he quickly reasoned. "He must be wise to the trick the chief has played on Sadie Badger, also, or at least suspect it, or he would not have delayed to visit her before bringing Helen Mantell out here. By Jove, I had a hunch the chief might be in wrong. Things look a bit rocky, for fair." Patsy’s face betrayed none of these thoughts, however, but wore an expression as if he wondered why he had incurred such animosity and rough handling. He gazed at Goulard, after being jerked to his feet by the others, who were hastening to bind him, and demanded, with well-feigned perplexity: "What’s it all about, anyway? What are you putting over on me?" "The boot’s on the other leg," snapped Goulard. "We’re preventing your putting something across us." "I know nothing about you. I----” "You lie. You followed me from town with a motor cycle. I found it in the woods, where you hid it." "You did, eh?" "Furthermore, I think I know you," added Goulard, stepping nearer to Patsy and snatching the disguise from his face. "Ah, I thought so. You’re cute and clever, Garvan, but you’re not in my class, as you now will find at some cost. Get his revolver, Corson. You’ll find it in his side pocket. I saw him stealthily reaching for it." "It’s dead lucky for you, Goulard, that I did not get my hand on it," retorted Patsy, now seeing the utter folly of further subterfuge. "I’d have ended your vicious career the first crack from the box." "You would, eh?" sneered Goulard maliciously. "That’s what I would," snapped Patsy. "You’ll never have that satisfaction, Garvan." "Wait and see," growled Patsy, while Corson disarmed him and appropriated his weapons. "It’s a long, long way to Tipperary." "What in thunder’s the meaning of all this?" Mullen now demanded, grim with astonishment. "Where did the infernal runt come from?"