“Bloomsbury! Don’t you mean Bloomsburg?”
“Well, what thundering difference—” The taller man flashed a warning gesture, and in an instant Alex understood.
He was face to face with the bank robbers themselves!
For a moment he stared from one to the other in consternation. Then, sharply recovering himself, he turned quickly back to the key. But he was too late. He had betrayed his discovery.
Both men laughed. “Your surmise is correct, my young friend,” said the taller man, lightly. “We are the gentlemen who were forced to leave Zeisler so hurriedly this morning.
“But don’t let that make any difference,” he continued, producing a revolver and placing it significantly on the counter before him. “Go right ahead with the message.
“Or wait, give me a blank, and I’ll write it, so you will be sure to have it right.”
“Oh, hold on,” interposed his companion. “Now that he knows who we are, how do you know he will send the message as you write it, and not just the other thing—give us away?”
The first speaker threw down his pen. “Well, I’m an idiot. That’s so.”
He thought a moment, then, turning toward Alex, eyed him sharply an instant, and said: “Youngster, I’ll give you a dollar a word if you will give me your solemn promise to send this message just as I write it.”