“How many police are fighting them?” asked Big Tom.
“The whole force,” responded Cruikshank.
Big Tom stood aghast. He knew now that his men must fight. There could be no other escape. Gangsters, all of them, they would try to make a break. That would be impossible now. The roar of revolver shots now sounded like a cannonade.
“Listen, Tom” — Wheels Bryant was speaking coldly — “I’m going to scram — with this.”
He pointed to the bag. It was filled with gold and bills — a million in new loot, that had been deposited in Big Tom’s keeping.
“How about me?” questioned Big Tom.
“You’re staying right here,” answered Wheels. “You’re all right.”
“Yeah? Staying here — to take a rap — like Carpenter? Staying here — to be double-crossed?”
“Not that, Tom. You had a mess here before. It wasn’t your fault. Neither is this one. I ran in here — that’s all. I made a mysterious getaway. That’s your story. There’s no connection between you and me.”
Big Tom pondered. He did not know that Carpenter had told his story; that his own connection with the crime kings was known.