“I said a band of thieves,” insisted the thief. “Why he’s got his pals hidden all over the house.”
“I tell you he’s lying to you,” Gladwin cut in frantically, seeing that Phelan was falling under the spell of the big man’s superb bluff, and at the same time remembering Helen and pressing the button in the wall to warn her that the time had come for her to flee.
“We’re the only ones in this house,” Gladwin pursued, as Phelan gave him the benefit of his pop-eyes before he yielded them again to the stronger will.
“Then they’ve all escaped,” said the thief, easily, thrusting his hands in his pockets to help out his appearance of imperturbability.
“You let one go out, Phelan, and there were two others beside this one.”
The buttons on Phelan’s coat were fairly undulating with the emotions that stirred within him. In his seething gray matter there stirred the remembrance that Bateato had told him that women were robbing the house.
“You mean the women,” he said, ignoring Gladwin and addressing the thief. “I remember––when the little Japanaze called me oft me beat, he said there was women crooks here, too.”
“He’s lying to you, Phelan,” persisted Gladwin, though with less vehemence, a great feeling of relief having visited him in the belief that Helen had made her escape. “You can have the whole place searched just as soon as you’ve got this man where he can’t get away. There are no women here.”
This last declaration had scarcely passed his lips when a woman’s voice raised in hysterical protest was audible in the hallway.