igger!"

As Burns came forward, infinitely puzzled, the boy turned slowly, so that
the "muzzle" of the pipe continued to cover the would-be bullion thief.
Gingerly Iowa reached out with his foot and shoved the chair back to the
wall, and turning, backed into it and sat down. With the shadow of a grin
on his face, he demanded, "Wot next?"

"Now, slowly let your left arm down at full length on the table.
There--hand is on the key, isn't it?

"Now," continued Wilson, who never for an instant allowed his eyes to
wander from the man's face, "now feel with your fingers at the back of
the key, and find a screw-head, standing up."

"Which one? There are two or three," said Iowa craftily.

"No, there are not. There's just one. And I give you 'three' to find it,"
said the young operator sharply. "One, two--"

"Oh, go on! I got it!" exclaimed Iowa angrily.

"Below the screw-head is a binding-nut. Loosen it, and turn it leftwise.
Found it? Now take hold of the screw-head again, and turn it to the left.
It turns free, doesn't it?"

"Sure."

"Turn it about four times completely around. Now the binding nut again,
down, the other way, till it's tight. Got it?

"Now, hold your finger tips over the black button at the inner end of the
key, and hit down on it smartly."

There was a click.

"That's it. It has plenty of play, hasn't it?"

"Works up and down about an inch, if that's wot you mean," growled Iowa,
still puzzled. "But wot--"

"I'm going to give you a lesson in telegraphy and you are going to--"

Iowa saw, and exploded. "Well, of all the--Say, wot do you think--"

"All right!" Sharply, bravely, though inwardly steeling himself for
catastrophe, the lad counted, "One!--Two!--"

Again he won. "Oh, go on!" sputtered Iowa, through gritting teeth. And
the boy resumed.

"Hit the key a sharp rap! Pretty good. Now, two raps, one right after the
other. Good.

"Now, those are what we call 'dots.' Remember. Now, press the key down,
hold it for just a moment, and let it come up again. Very good. You would
learn telegraphy quickly, Mr. Burns. That is what we call a 'dash.'" With
the situation apparently so well in hand, Wilson was beginning almost to
enjoy it.

"Now I'll have you do what I've been aiming at. And remember always--my
finger is constantly pressing the trigger!"

"Now then, feel just this side of the key button, below. The little
button of a lever? Got it? Press it from you."

There was a single sharp