if you don't.
Of all the burglars you are the--Well! No!--I WON'T permit you. There
isn't time. If you start off jawing again, I'll shoot right in your
stomach. See? But I know now-I know now! What we're going to do first,
my man, is an examination for concealed arms--an examination for
concealed arms. And look here! When I tell you to do a thing, don't
start off at a gabble--do it brisk."
And with many elaborate precautions, and always pointing the pistol at
Mr. Ledbetter's head, the stout man stood him up and searched him for
weapons. "Why, you ARE a burglar!" he said "You're a perfect amateur.
You haven't even a pistol-pocket in the back of your breeches. No, you
don't! Shut up, now."
So soon as the issue was decided, the stout man made Mr. Ledbetter take
off his coat and roll up his shirt-sleeves, and, with the revolver at
one ear, proceed with the packing his appearance had interrupted. From
the stout man's point of view that was evidently the only possible
arrangement, for if he had packed, he would have had to put down
the revolver. So that even the gold on the table was handled by Mr.
Ledbetter. This nocturnal packing was peculiar. The stout man's idea was
evidently to distribute the weight of the gold as unostentatiously
as possible through his luggage. It was by no means an inconsiderable
weight. There was, Mr. Ledbetter says, altogether nearly L18,000 in gold
in the black bag and on the table. There were also many little rolls
of L5 bank-notes. Each rouleau of L25 was wrapped by Mr. Ledbetter
in paper. These rouleaux were then put neatly in cigar boxes and
distributed between a travelling trunk, a Gladstone bag, and a hatbox.
About L600 went in a tobacco tin in a dressing-bag. L10 in gold and a
number of L5 notes the stout man pocketed. Occasionally he objurgated
Mr. Ledbetter's clumsiness, and urged him to hurry, and several times he
appealed to Mr. Ledbetter's watch for information.
Mr. Ledbetter strapped the trunk and bag, and returned the stout man
the keys. It was then ten minutes to twelve, and until the stroke of
midnight the stout man made him sit on the Gladstone bag, while he sat
at a reasonably safe distance on the trunk and held the revolver handy
and waited. He appeared to be now in a less aggressive mood, and having
watched Mr. Ledbetter for some time, he offered a few remarks.
"From your accent I judge you are a man of some education," he said,
lighting a cigar. "No--DON'T begin that ex
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