Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/168

 thin silver cigarette case leaped out. He opened it dexterously by pushing the catch, holding the case between his two wrists as he did so. It was one of the kind of cases that hold the cigarettes upright in the middle. All he had to do now was to bend his head and grasp one of the white paper rolls between his lips. Next he pressed the opposite vest pocket and a thin lighter leaped out.

The cap opened as Teck pressed the button on the side, shooting a thin blade of flame toward him. He lighted his cigarette and closed the lighter. For a moment he said nothing, inhaling the smoke luxuriously.

“Very clever,” commented Val.

“You learn to do things for yourself after awhile,” remarked Teck. “Now, about this promise⸺”

“How do you know that I’ll keep my promise, anyway?”

“Oh, you will. I know your kind,” Teck assured him.

“I know, Iggy, but a promise obtained under duress is not valid, anyway,” Val protested.

“I’ll take my chance on that,” said Teck. He knew he was safe in that regard; Val was one of the class to whom a promise is a sacred thing, and Teck knew it. He was taking no chances, really, he considered.

“I want a definite answer from you, Morley,” announced Teck. “I’m leaving town this evening, and before I go you will have promised what I asked you, or you will no longer be in a position to promise anything. And don’t console yourself with the idea that I’m bluffing—because if you call my bluff you won’t be here to find out whether you were right or wrong. You know what I’m referring to,” he said meaningly.

“Don’t you know it’s bad form to end a sentence