“Not only a handkerchief, Jim, but also its owner.” “What d’ye mean?” Margate snarled. “See for yourself,” snapped Deland. “Don’t stir till I give you permission, you spying whelp, or there’ll be holes made in you.” “Oh, I’m not going to stir,” Patsy said coolly, thoroughly disgusted with the unfortunate turn of affairs. “I’m not dead sure that I can stir, as far as that goes.” “You’ll be dead if you do, take my word for it. Drop down on the ground.” Patsy obeyed, falling with a thud when he let go of his support. He could not have clung on much longer. “Get him by the legs, Jim, and pull him out,” Deland commanded. “Watch that he don’t reach for a gun.” “If he does, blast him, I’ll break his head,” Margate snarled, while he and Pitman seized Patsy’s heels and dragged him from under the wagon. “Bring a piece of rope, Ruff,” said Deland, with revolver ready. “Stand him on his feet, Jim. Do you know him?” Patsy saw that resistance would be nothing less than madness. He suffered the two ruffians to yank him to his feet, and when they did so his disguise was jostled out of place. Margate saw it and jerked it from his face. “Perdition!” He recoiled with a gasp. “It’s young Garvan, one of Nick Carter’s push.” Deland came nearer, till the muzzle of his revolver touched Patsy’s breast. He did not appear to be in the least disturbed by the discovery, not more than when Chick intruded upon him that morning. His nerves were, apparently, as stiff as steel. “Oh, is that so?” he inquired icily. “Are you sure of it, Jim?” “I ought to be, hang him.” “We’ll do better than hang him,” said Deland, with an ominous gleam in his cold eyes. “Garvan, eh? What sent you out here?” “I came to see what you rascals were after,” said Patsy curtly. “Did you?” sneered Deland. “Well, you shall not be disappointed. You shall see all that we do--until we depart.” “That’s good enough for me.” “But after then--you will see nothing!” Deland added, with a merciless smile. Patsy did not deign to reply. He glanced sharply around, however, and saw that they were close to the rear part of an extensive cemetery. A fence of wooden palings divided it from, the rough, lonely back road. The white stones and monuments, also several large tombs built into the side of a hill, could be seen through the semidarkness. “Get his weapons and bind his arms securely,” Deland commanded coldly. “If he has any handcuffs, fasten them on him, also. He shall watch us to his heart’s content--until we leave him.” “Leave him where?” growled Margate. “Wait and see.” Patsy still was a bit puzzled, but he submitted in grim silence to the work of the three ruffians, who disarmed and then securely bound him. “Now, Margate, a gag,” said Deland. “Make sure that you fix it so securely that he cannot remove it. He shall occupy cold quarters to-night--and hereafter!” Patsy saw plainly that he was in the hands of a man who had in him all the makings of a devil.