Out of Context

The Quest of the Sacred Slipper
Sax Rohmer

There was nothing of the bully about him, nothing melodramatic; but I took off the coat without demur and threw it across to him.

“It will hide the stump,” he said grimly; “and any of the Hashishin gentlemen who may be on the lookout–though I rather fancy the road is clear at the moment–will mistake me for you. See the idea? Carneta will be in a cab and I’ll be in after her and away before they’ve got time to so much as whistle.”

Very awkwardly he got into the coat.

“She’s a clever girl, Carneta,” he said. “She’s doctored me all along since those devils cut my hand off.”

As he finished speaking Carneta returned.

She had discarded her rags and wore a large travelling coat and a fashionable hat.

“Ready?” asked Dexter. “We’ll make a rush for it. We meant to go tonight anyway. It’s getting too hot here!” He turned to me.

“Sorry to say,” he drawled, “I’ll have to tie you up and gag you. Apologize; but it can’t be helped.”

Carneta nodded and went out of the room again, to return almost immediately with a line that looked as though it might have been employed for drying washing.

“Hands behind you,” rapped Dexter, toying with the revolver–“and think yourself lucky you’ve got two!”