Banging, ripping, tearing, the thin outer door was easily forced.
Disregarding the melee I leaped through the wreckage with Garrick.
The "ice-box" door barred all further progress. How was Garrick to
surmount this last and most formidable barrier?
"A raid! A raid!" cried a passer-by.
Another instant, and the cry, taken up by others, brought a crowd
swarming around from Broadway, as if it were noon instead of
midnight.
CHAPTER X
THE GAMBLING DEBT
There was no time to be lost now. Down the steps again dashed
Garrick, after our expected failure both to get in peaceably and
to pass the ice-box door by force. This time Dillon emerged from
the cab with him. Together they were carrying the heavy apparatus
up the steps.
They set it down close to the door and I scrutinized it carefully.
It looked, at first sight, like a short stubby piece of iron,
about eighteen inches high. It must have weighed fifty or sixty
pounds. Along one side was a handle, and on the opposite side an
adjustable hook with a sharp, wide prong.
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