Donald sprang from his seat and did as he was directed. He was not a moment too soon.
The police knocked smartly at the door.
The woman opened it.
"Have you got Morrison here?" McMahon asked.
"Look and see," the woman replied.
The two men searched the four rooms of the small house, and then they sat down upon the bed beneath which, close to the wall, Donald was concealed!
"There's no use in stopping here," Leroyer said.
"No," replied McMahon, "we may as well go." As he spoke he carelessly ran the butt end of his rifle under the bed!
Donald grew to the wall, and held his breath!
The rifle conveyed no sense of contact. It was thrust in without conscious motive.