"Who are you?" he said, shaking his brawny fist in my face. "We don't want _you_ here--get out of this room at once, or it will be the worse for you. We won't 'ave you a-interfering with our friends. This gent 'ave come 'ere of _his own free will_. We like him, and 'e's 'eartily welcome to stay as long as 'e wants to. You'd best go, ef you value your life." While he was speaking I suddenly flung my hand behind me, and turning the handle of the French window threw it open. I stepped on to the balcony and called to the cabman: "Stay where you are," I said, "I may want you in a moment." Then I entered the room again. "I don't wish to waste words on you," I said, addressing the burly man. "I have come for Mr. Tollemache, and I don't mean to leave the house without him. He comes away with me the moment you return his watch and chain, and the three hundred pounds you have stolen from him. If you don't fetch that watch and chain, and that money, I shall send the cabman who is waiting for me outside, and who knows me, for the police. You are best acquainted with what sort of house this is, and with what sort of game you are up to. It is for you to say how near the wind you are sailing. If you wish the police to find out, they can be here in a minute or two. If not, give me the money and the watch and chain. I give you two minutes to make your choice." Here I took out my watch and looked at it steadily. I stepped again on to the balcony. "Cabby," I shouted, "if I am not with you in _three minutes from now_, go and bring a couple of policemen here as quickly as ever you can." The cabman did not speak, but he took out his watch and looked at it. I re-entered the room. "Now you know my mind," I said. "I give you two minutes to decide how to act. If Mr. Tollemache and I are not standing on the pavement in three minutes from now, the police will come and search this house. It is for you to decide whether you wish them to do so or not." I was glad to see that my words had an effect upon the biggest of the ruffians. He looked at his companions, who glanced back at him apprehensively. One of them edged near me and tried to peer over my shoulder to see if the cabman were really there. Tollemache went on mumbling and muttering on the sofa. I stood with my back to the window, my watch in my hand, marking the time. "Time's up," I said, suddenly replacing the watch. "Now, what do you mean to do?" "We'd best oblige the gent, don't yer think so, Bill?" said one of the men to his chief. "We'll see about that," said the chief. He came close to me again. "Now, look you 'ere," he said, "you'd best go out quiet, and no mischief will come. The gent 'ere 'e give us the watch and chain and the money, being old pals of his as he picked up in New York City." "That's a lie," shouted Tollemache. "Stay quiet," I said to him. Then I turned to the ruffian, whose hot breath I felt on my cheek.