Page:Arthur Stringer - The Shadow.djvu/153

 "What do you want, Jim?" asked Binhart, almost querulously.

"I want that gun you 've got up there under your liver pad," was Blake's impassive answer.

"Is that all?" asked Binhart. But he made no move to produce the gun.

"Then I want you," calmly announced Blake.

A look of gentle expostulation crept over Binhart's gaunt face.

"You can't do it, Jim," he announced. "You can't take me away from here."

"But I'm going to," retorted Blake.

"How?"

"I 'm just going to take you."

He crossed the room as he spoke.

"Give me the gun," he commanded.

Binhart still sat in the low reed chair. He made no movement in response to Blake's command.

"What 's the good of getting rough-house," he complained.