"He won't get away!" and Godfrey's eyes were gleaming again. "We don't have to search for him; for we've got our trap, Lester, and it's baited with a bait he can't resist—the Boule cabinet!"
"But he knows it's a trap."
"Of course he knows it!"
"And you really think he will walk into it?" I asked incredulously.
"I know he will! One of these days, he will try to get that cabinet out of the steel cell at the Twenty-third Street station, in which we have it locked!"
I shook my head.
"He's no such fool," I said. "No man is such a fool as that. He'll give it up and go quietly back to Paris."
"Not if he's the man I think he is," said Godfrey, his hand on the door. "He will never give up! Just wait, Lester; we shall know in a day or two which of us is a true prophet. The only thing I am afraid of," he added, his face clouding, "is that he'll get away with the cabinet, in spite of us!"
And he went away down the hall, leaving me staring after him.