green eyes were staring at me sharply enough by this time.
"This sleeping sickness game," I retorted, "For I've had about my fill of it!"
"What d'you mean?" she asked, studying my face and plainly showing she didn't like the look of it.
"I mean you've got to take off that hat and dress," I told her without a quaver.
"When?"
"Right away."
"Why?"
"Because I need 'em in my business. So peel off, Katie, before the ugly side of my disposition gets to shooting off its fire-works."
"You're kiddin'!" protested Copperhead Kate, backing away a little.
I was right beside her in a jiffy and I had the gun-barrel close up between two of her corset-steels.
"You get off that dress!" I told her, and I said it as though I meant it. She stared into my face for several seconds. Then she looked sidewise at the club-bag.
"How about that?" she had the nerve to ask, with a movement toward her bagful of loot.
