He slipped his hand into his pocket.

“Checkmate to the Young Adventurers,” he said, and slowly raised the big automatic.

But, even as he did so, he felt himself seized from behind in a grip of iron. The revolver was wrenched from his hand, and the voice of Julius Hersheimmer said drawlingly:

“I guess you’re caught redhanded with the goods upon you.”

The blood rushed to the K.C. ’s face, but his self-control was marvellous, as he looked from one to the other of his two captors. He looked longest at Tommy.

“You,” he said beneath his breath. “ You! I might have known.”