“Cuccini!”
Only the echo answered him.
“That’s queer.” He poked his head in the door of the study. “Rush that job, Mike. There’s some funny business here.” And over his shoulder, “Tell the boys to get ready to jump.”
The man went out into the night and was absent some minutes, to return with an alarming piece of news.
“They’ve gone, boss. I can’t see one of them.”
The “boss” cursed him, and himself went into the grounds on a visit of inspection. He came back in a hurry, ran into the study, and Leon heard his voice:
“Stand ready to clear.”
“What about Cuccini?”
“Cuccini will have to look after himself . . . got it, Mike?”
The deep voice said something. There followed the sound of a crack, as though something of iron had broken. It was the psychological moment. Leon parted the curtains and dropped lightly to the floor.