“That’s just it,” declared Bob. “I know what the Chief is after. He’s not worried about the cops, and so far there’s been no trouble with any inquiries for the girl.
“He’s up against The Shadow — at least he thinks he is — and he’s waiting to pull one over on that guy.”
“Why doesn’t he do it then?”
“It’s all arranged,” said Bob. “But the Chief doesn’t want a slip-up. He wants to be sure — or nearly sure that The Shadow is on the job. So far, he’s had no indication. That’s why he’s waiting.
“I wish something would happen to make him spring the trap. I’m tired of waiting. Getting nervous, for the first time. Itching to get going.”
Briggs nodded. He had not talked with Bob about the contemplated plans. Briggs was content to wait for orders. Theoretically, he held a position equal to Bob’s; but his value lay in the fact that he could follow instructions.
Briggs never cared to know too much. He had found it profitable to attend only to details that were set for him. He knew that he was to play a part in the coming enterprise, and he was ready.
Bob stared about the gloomy room and became thoughtful. Briggs sat down and began to read a newspaper.
It was late in the afternoon. Darkness had fallen outside. Briggs expected another long evening of waiting.
Ten minutes passed. Bob began to drum restlessly upon the flat-topped desk. He picked up a sheet of paper and began to trace cryptic characters upon it.