always armed,
and that Hotchkiss as the low comedian should have had a revolver that
missed fire. As a fact, we had nothing of the sort. Hotchkiss carried
the fire tongs, but my sense of humor was too strong for me; I declined
the poker.

"All we want is a little peaceable conversation with him," I demurred.
"We can't brain him first and converse with him afterward. And anyhow,
while I can't put my finger on the place, I think your theory is weak.
If he wouldn't run a hundred miles through fire and water to get away
from us, then he is not the man we want."

Hotchkiss, however, was certain. He had found the room and listened
outside the door to the sleeper's heavy breathing, and so we climbed
past luxurious suites, revealed in the deepening daylight, past long
vistas of hall and boudoir. And we were both badly winded when we got
there. It was a tower room, reached by narrow stairs, and well above the
roof level. Hotchkiss was glowing.

"It is partly good luck, but not all," he panted in a whisper. "If we
had persisted in the search last night, he would have taken alarm and
fled. Now--we have him. Are you ready?"

He gave a mighty rap at the door with the fire tongs, and stood
expectant. Certainly he was right; some one moved within.

"Hello! Hello there!" Hotchkiss bawled. "You might as well come out. We
won't hurt you, if you'll come peaceably."

"Tell him we represent the law," I prompted. "That's the customary
thing, you know."

But at that moment a bullet came squarely through the door and flattened
itself with a sharp pst against the wall of the tower staircase. We
ducked unanimously, dropped back out of range, and Hotchkiss retaliated
with a spirited bang at the door with the tongs. This brought another
bullet. It was a ridiculous situation. Under the circumstances, no
doubt, we should have retired, at least until we had armed ourselves,
but Hotchkiss had no end of fighting spirit, and as for me, my blood was
up.

"Break the lock," I suggested, and Hotchkiss, standing at the side, out
of range, retaliated for every bullet by a smashing blow with the tongs.
The shots ceased after a half dozen, and the door was giving, slowly.
One of us on each side of the door, we were ready for almost any kind
of desperate resistance. As it swung open Hotchkiss poised the tongs; I
stood, bent forward, my arm drawn back for a blow.

Nothing happened.

There was not a sound. Finally, at the risk of losing an eye which