The inspector smiled in a twisted fashion.
“Little beggars! They will be taken care of all right. The parents were well prepared for some such eventuality as this, you may be sure.”
Steadman said no more. He stood back with the inspector, while the others of their following went to Gordon's help. There was more crashing, quantities of dust and a splintering of wood, and at last the staircase came suddenly away. Behind it a locked door the width of the passage blocked their way.
To open it was only the work of a minute, and then the inspector and Steadman found themselves in the scene of last night's exploits. The Yellow Room looked garish and shabby with the clear morning light stealing in. The chairs in which they had sat had gone, otherwise everything looked much the same.
But time was too precious to be spent in examining the Yellow Room, interesting though it might be. The inspector was out to catch the members of the Yellow Gang; but, though, once the staircase was down, to get from one room to the other of the perfect rabbit warren of small houses which had been devised for the safety of the Yellow Gang and its spoils presented little difficulty, the inspector, standing in that room by the river, had to acknowledge that the Yellow Dog and his satellites had outwitted him again. The only member of the Gang that remained in their hands was the man who had opened the first door to them. Not a sign of any other living creature was to be seen. Even the wife and children had disappeared.
But, as Furnival and John Steadman stood there talking, a tiny wisp of grey vapour came floating down the passage, another came, and yet another.
“Smoke!” the inspector cried.
And as the two men turned back, and heard the clamour arise, while the smoke seemed to be everywhere at once, and over all sounded the crackling of the flames and the ringing of the alarm bells, they realized that the Yellow Gang was not done with yet.
Chapter XXIV
The Community House of St. Philip was en fête. Not only was it the name day of its patron saint, but its young head had just been rendered particularly joyful by the receipt of a telegram from Burchester stating that at a further hearing the magistrates had dismissed the charge against Hopkins, and that he would reach the Community House the same evening. A special tea of good things for all members of the Community was in full swing in the Refectory. Mrs. Phillimore was presiding at the urn at the centre table, and friends of hers at the tables at either side. The delectable pork pies and plates of pressed beef and ham had been carried round by Todmarsh and a little band of workers comprising several of the clergy of the neighbourhood and several West End friends, Tony Collyer, who had been unwillingly pressed into the service, among the number.