He grasped the man's arm.
"I've got a gun against your back," he cried in fierce suppressed tones.
"Stand still and keep your mouth shut, or I'll drill a hole through you.
You're safe if you do as I tell you, Crust.

I'm onto your little game.
I'm not saying you are the guilty man, but you know who he is,--and it won't work." Manuel Crust was as rigid as a block of stone.

He did not even turn his head to look into the face of the man who held him.
Michael Malone and Landover were at Percival's side in an instant.

From their position on the steps they could see what was not visible to the crowd beyond,--the revolver that was pressed against the small of Crust's back.
"Cover this man," whispered Percival to Malone.

"Shoot if he opens his mouth." Malone's revolver was jammed against the "Portugee's" back, and Percival sprang back up the steps.
Manuel Crust shot a look of surprise at Abel Landover.
"What the hell--" he began, but choked off the words at a command from Malone.