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90 hear the end of that joke. It's just by luck I had this revolver in my pocket—but still, if you turn this boat around, I'll use it."

He was trying to pass the affair off as more or less of a joke but there was no mistaking the steely glint in his eyes or the hardness of his voice.

Frank looked at his brother, and shrugged.

"I guess there's nothing else for it but bring him to Bayport," he muttered. "I don't want to get shot."

"That gun looks bad," agreed Joe. "There's not much joking about that part of it."

Frank bore down on the wheel and corrected the course of the boat so that they were soon bound directly for Bayport again.

"We'll take you to the city," he said to the stranger, "but I'm going to warn you that we'll turn you over to the police if we get a chance. That's a dangerous game you're playing, even if you say it is only a joke. It's a hold up."

"You'll think differently after we reach Bayport," promised the man. "I'll have my wife write you a letter of thanks after the wedding. I hate to use this revolver, but I can't miss that train."

The stranger's insistence on his story that he had to catch a train did not convince the