This pair, of all the persons present, caught the attention of Lamont Cranston. Gathering his final supply of wealth, the big winner prepared to go.
It was Big Tom Bagshawe who restrained him. The bulky gambling king intercepted Lamont Cranston and tried to lull him with a friendly smile.
“Congratulations!” exclaimed Bagshawe. “You had luck tonight, sir—”
“Luck is sometimes a habit,” responded Cranston, in a cryptic tone.
“Come into the office,” suggested Bagshawe. “You are laden with all those coins. Suppose that I give you paper money instead—”
Cranston stopped short. He noticed that Morton and Carpenter were going toward the stairs. He caught a few words of their conversation. They were planning to spend a while in the Club Catalina, instead of returning to the hotel at this early hour. Moreover, the attendants had formed an irregular cordon between Cranston and the door to the anteroom.
“Thank you,” responded Cranston, the vague flicker of a smile tracing itself upon his lips. “I shall accept your favor, Mr. Bagshawe. Paper currency would be more convenient.”
With Bagshawe’s hand upon his elbow, Lamont Cranston turned toward the door of the office. He stared straight ahead as he walked. He did not appear to notice the quick, significant glance that Bagshawe threw toward his underlings.
The door of the office closed behind the two men. Attendants who were busy packing away equipment suddenly ceased their tasks. Two men hurried to the door that led to the head of the stairs. When they returned, they nodded toward their companions. The clearing of the rooms continued without further interruption.
These actions had accomplished results. Men were stealing up the stairs to the anteroom. Mobsters, hurriedly assembled at a given signal, were blocking the path that led below.