But the detectives made loud conversation.
“I don’t keer a durn!” Harry finally yawned. “I’m goin’ to have some sleep, anyway.”
“Same hyar! I’m fagged.”
They cast themselves heavily upon the iron cot beds. Then in a few moments both were snoring.
But they were not sleeping.
Each, through half-shut eyes, watched the cell door.
Just what they expected occurred.
Suddenly at the iron bars there appeared a leering face.
It was the keeper Isaac.
He crouched there a moment and then glided away.