“A singular example of what imagination will do!” commented Jetsam. “The first chamber of this revolver was loaded with blank. I expected to have to use it for theatrical effect, to begin with, and I was not wrong. Let me add that the other five chambers are most carefully loaded, and that I once earned my living in a music-hall by shooting the pips out of cards with this revolver.” He then addressed Mr. Gloucester. “Now, old man,” he said, “how much gold is there in one of those boxes?” “Two thousand five hundred!” answered Mr. Gloucester politely. “And it weighs?” “About sixty pounds.” “It isn’t worth while breaking into it,” said Jetsam smoothly, looking at Ilam. “I’ll take the lot. In our final settlement it shall be brought into account.” His glance shifted to Gloucester. “Thank you,” he added, “for this information so courteously given. “Perhaps you are satisfied now!” said Ilam. “Why don’t you go? You think you won’t get caught, but you will.” “Surely, you won’t give me away, Jos!” protested Jetsam. “I’m convinced you won’t; because you see, if you begin to talk about me I should probably begin to talk about you, and think how dreadful that would be.” “Keep it up! Keep it up!” said Ilam. “Hence,” Jetsam proceeded, ignoring the interruption, “I shall confidently rely on you to see that these excellent gentlemen here in the corner keep their elegant mouths shut. I shall rely on you for that. You understand, gentlemen, Mr. Ilam wishes you not to prattle, even in the privacy of your own homes.” “Are you going?” said Ilam doggedly. “Yes,” said Jetsam; “and so are you.” “Me!” “Yes, you. The money is a mere incidental. What I came for was your distinguished self.” “I’m not coming with you. I haven’t the slightest intention of coming with you.” “You may not have much intention, but you are coming,” said the suave Jetsam. “Besides, who is going to carry this box outside for me? I can’t carry the box and a revolver, too. Obviously Providence has designated precisely you to carry this box. Come.” “Not I!” Ilam defied him. “Come!” repeated Jetsam. “I have a vehicle awaiting outside, and we shall see what we shall see.” “No!” insisted Ilam. Mr. Jetsam advanced two paces. “Listen!” said he angrily and yet calmly. “If you don’t come, I’ll shoot you where you stand. You ought to be able to perceive that I mean what I say.” Ilam’s reply was a mute surrender. He dropped his eyes, and the next moment the two underlings had the spectacle of the corpulent Mr. Ilam lifting a sixty-pound weight and struggling with it to the door, followed by the revolver and Mr. Jetsam behind the revolver. “Stop in the doorway a second,” ordered Jetsam. He addressed the clerks again. “If I were you, I shouldn’t hurry out of here. You might catch cold.” And then they saw Ilam disappear, the box in his arms, and Mr. Jetsam follow him. Mr. Jetsam closed the door. The clerks were alone. “Well, of all the----!” exclaimed the younger man.