There had been a
movement on the part of every one to leave the room, but the sight of
these deadly weapons confronting them made each one shrink into his
place again.
The man with his back to the door spoke in a loud and domineering
voice, asking the auctioneer to translate what he had to say into
French and German; he spoke in English.
'These here shiners are valuable; they belong to my friend who has
just gone out. Casting no reflections on the generality of people in
this room, there are, nevertheless, half a dozen "crooks" among us
whom my friend wishes to avoid. Now, no honest man here will object to
giving the buyer of that there trinket five clear minutes in which to
get away. It's only the "crooks" that can kick. I ask these five
minutes as a favour, but if they are not granted I am going to take
them as a right. Any man who moves will get shot.'
'I am an honest man,' I cried, 'and I object. I am chief detective of
the French Government. Stand aside; the police will protect your
friend.'
'Hold on, my son,' warned the American, turning one weapon directly
upon me, while the other held a sort of roving commission, pointing
all over the room. 'My friend is from New York and he distrusts the
police as much as he does the grafters.
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