Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 62, No. 2, October 3, 1931

Even his two men, Crest and Stone, betrayed a certain uneasy alertness in his presence. Holly’s face, heretofore quite pleasant, grew rigid and stern.

In dead silence, then, Starke advanced into the room. He paid no attention to his gunmen, beyond a mere glance. He made straight for Holly, stood in front of him, and regarded him without remorse, without pity.

“What about the gun?” he snapped, abruptly.

Holly gazed at him, unwinking.

“What gun?”

“You know what gun,” Starke cracked his words out like pistol shots. No wonder his man, Crest — and all the others, for that matter — had full confidence in his ability to get what he wanted.

“Of course I know,” said Holly, slowly. “You mean the gun that took the life of young Grace Arlen.”

Not a muscle of Starke’s face moved.

“You know what gun. Where is it?”

“Didn’t you ask Watson?” countered Holly.

“I did. He knows that you have it. But that’s all.”

The smile that came to Holly’s face was almost pleasant again.

“Is that all he could tell you? It took you a long time to find that out. Your men have been waiting impatiently for you. They don’t like my place.”

“Watson was not at home when I got there. I had to wait until—”

Starke stopped quickly. He was not in the habit of making explanations, and this one had been surprised out of him.

“Never mind that,” he said brusquely. “The gun — where is it?”

Holly shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

Starke looked him over, calmly, derisively.

“You don’t seem to be in a position to refuse anything,” he sneered.

“And you,” retorted Holly, “are not in a position to demand anything.”

“No?”

“No. Now, suppose I refuse to tell you?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I do. You’ll kill me. But you intend to do that, anyway. You can’t kill me any deader for not telling you.” Starke flushed angrily.

“No. But I can kill you quicker!”

“Not enough quicker to make any difference,” said Holly, indifferently.

Starke stared down at him, his black eyes merciless with hate. Then he turned to his gunmen.

“We’ll do the job right now,” he barked.

“Okay,” said Crest.

“Can’t be too soon to suit me,” growled Stone. “This place gives me the willies.”

“You two,” Starke went on rapidly, “can plug him as he sits there. We’ll untie him then, and take him out and ditch him where they won’t find him very easily.”

Already Crest and Stone had taken automatics from their pockets. They were ready to fire, waiting for Starke to give the word.

And Starke was about to give it.

“Just a minute, Starke,” put in Holly.

But Starke paid no attention to him. He was not the kind to hesitate.

“I’ll tell you about the gun,” Holly went on quickly.

That was enough to delay Starke, at least for a moment or two. Starke turned to him again.

“All right. Where is it?”

“I’ll tell you,” Holly amended with a smile, “on one consideration.”

“Name it.”

“I’ve got a good black horse out in the stable. His name’s Tommy.”

“What about it?”

“Well, there’s no one here to take care of him. I don’t like to leave him unprovided for.”

Starke’s lip curled contemptuously.

“Well?”

“Take care of Tommy?” said Holly quietly, “and I’ll tell you about the gun.”

It didn’t take Starke a second to decide that.

“All right. I’ll do it. Now, about the gun?”

“You’ll need it badly,” Holly parleyed.

“Well, where is it?”

“And I want to be sure that you’ll take care of your end of the bargain before I’ll tell you.”

Starke nodded impatiently. He understood. Holly wanted a guarantee.

“If Tommy were turned loose,” Holly went on, “he would know where to go.”

“We’ll turn him loose,” said Starke. “Show me the gun.”

“I’d have to turn him loose myself. Or, at least, I’d have to be present.”

Three seconds of thought and Starke motioned to Crest and Stone.

“This guy,” he said, “seems awful anxious to see that horse. Maybe he ain’t got a horse. Maybe it’s a trick. You boys go out and take a look at that horse, and make sure there ain’t nothing phony about it. I’ll keep him entertained while you’re gone.”

Reluctantly, Crest and Stone started toward the door.

“It’s in back of the house,” Holly said. “You can’t miss it. But you better light that lantern there to see by. And don’t get too close to Tommy. Tommy doesn’t pay any attention to strangers. He doesn’t bother about anybody but me. He’d just as soon step on you as not. So don’t go too close.”

This did not seem to reassure Crest and Stone any. Stone took down the lantern and lit it. Then they closed the door behind them very slowly.

When they were gone, Holly turned to Starke.