A man approached. Shifter spoke quickly.
“Wait at the door, Zeke. The gorillas are going to mop up. When we’re ready to go, give them the sign to join us.”
Zeke nodded and went to his post. Shifter pushed his way among stacks of boating equipment. He opened a trap-door in the floor, and revealed a metal ladder. Wheels Bryant could hear the lapping of waves.
“Everything is ready,” muttered Shifter. “There’s the boat — in the submarine chamber. The tank’s half filled with water, and I’ve had it down at the bottom out of sight. Since dark, I brought it up. Climb in. We’ll open the outer gates.”
“How long will it take?”
“Not more than five or ten minutes. I’m ready to travel fast, but didn’t know we’d have to scram this quick. Two men down there. Let’s go.”
“Here’s the swag.”
Shifter seized the bag and led the way down the ladder. The men dropped into a long, lowlying speedboat. Machine guns glistened in the dim light. Shifter stowed the bag in a locker at the front.
“Open the gates,” ordered Shifter.
One of the gangster crew leaned over the side of the boat and yanked a lever attached to the steel-walled tank. There was a stir in the darkness ahead; a sharp sea breeze whistled inward as the way began to open slowly. Shifter busied himself with the motor. Wheels Bryant stared up the ladder, in an apprehensive manner.