"
A moment later Dillon rejoined us, his face perspiring from the
closeness of the air in the booth.
"Now to that place on Forty-eighth Street, and we're square,"
ordered Garrick to the driver, mentioning the address. "Quick!"
There had been, we could see, no chance for a tip to be given that
a raid was about to be pulled off. We could see that, as Garrick
and I jumped out of the cab and mounted the steps.
The door was closed to us, however. Only someone like Warrington
who was known there could have got us in peacefully, until we had
become known in the place. Yet though there had been no tip, the
lookout on the other side of the door, with his keen nose, had
seemed to scent trouble.
He had retreated and, we knew, had shut the inside, heavy door--
perhaps even had had time already to give the alarm inside.
The sharp rap of a small axe which Garrick had brought sounded on
the flimsy outside door, in quick staccato. There was a noise and
scurry of feet inside and we could hear the locks and bolts being
drawn.
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