Hoppy edged past Simon, as though straining on a leash.
Simultaneously, several things happened in such swift succession that they had the effect of happening almost all at once: a sizzling shower of golden sparks flamed from the door-knob, a wild howl split the silence, there was a mad scramble of slipping feet, the thud of a falling body, the blast of a gunshot, and the rattle of plaster cascading to the floor.
The Saint and Hoppy leaped forward almost on top of the gunman’s yell, with Hoppy ahead of Simon by virtue of his head start.
Simon’s warning cry came too late.
Hoppy’s joyous battle bellow leaped to a yell of consternation as he grabbed the door-knob amid another constellation of sparks bursting about his hand. He leaped backwards, skidding on a rug, and sat down with a cosmic crash in front of the doorway.
The Saint ripped the cord from the electric outlet with one hand, reached over with the other and tried to pull open the door against Hoppy’s obstructing weight.
“Okay, boss, okay!” Hoppy grunted protestingly as Simon rolled him over with a yank at the door.
He scrambled to his feet as the Saint disappeared into the hallway. But even as he snatched open the front door, Simon knew that the quarry had escaped. The “In Use” signal light of the automatic elevator gleamed at him in yellow derision. Hoppy charged past him and skidded to a halt. “Where’d he go, huh? Where’d he go?” he demanded feverishly.
Then he caught the glow of the elevator signal light and whirled for the stairs. The Saint grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Come back, Pluto,” he said disgustedly. “That elevator will be at the bottom before you’ve gone down three flights.”
He dragged Hoppy back into the apartment as a murmur of alarmed voices, with a few doors opening and closing, drifted faintly up the stairwell. Muttering to himself, Hoppy joined the Saint in the darkness before the living-room window and stared down at the moon-silvered street before the building entrance far below. Suddenly, as the realisation that the would-be raider would probably be leaving by that exit dawned upon him, a vast feral grin spread over his face. He raised his gun.