THE BRASS BOWL
rage and crouching as if ready to spring, only restrained by the sight of his own revolver, steady and threatening in Maitland's hand.
For the least part of a second the young man hesitated, choosing his way. Then, resolved, in accents of determination, "Stand up, you hound!" he cried. "Back to the wall there!" and thrust the weapon under the burglar's nose.
The move gained instant obedience. Mr. Anisty could not reasonably hesitate in the face of such odds.
"And you," Maitland continued over his shoulder to the girl, without removing his attention from the burglar, "into the alcove there, at once! And not a word, not a whisper, not a sound until I call you!"
She gave him one frightened and piteous glance, then, unquestioning, slipped quietly behind the portières.
To Anisty, again: "Turn your pockets out!" commanded Maitland. "Quick, you fool! The police are below; your freedom depends on your haste."
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