"You mean—"
"I mean that our pals are dead. Major, Ferret, and Butcher. All stretched out in the corridor." Amazement appeared upon Judge's face. It turned to fury. He rose in his chair, and clenched his fists. He looked at Bronlon. The millionaire wore the expression of a hunted man.
Judge became suddenly calm.
"Give me the details," he said to Deacon.
"I went by there last night," declared Deacon. "Everything was quiet. Today, I waited until after noon. I hadn't heard a word from Major.
"I thought he might have called you up — but I knew that you were out of town. I decided I had better take a look in the morgue — to see the body that was supposed to be in the coffin.
"I went down. The coffins were all empty. I saw a little pool of blood on the floor. Drops running to the panel in the wall. Drops going toward the stairway.
"I went into the corridor. There I found them. Butcher — I stumbled over him the first thing. Major and Ferret were at the other end of the corridor."
"What did you do?" asked Judge quietly.
"I left them there," said Deacon. "That's the best place, for the present. No one will ever find them. We can get rid of the bodies later. But how are you going to cover things up tomorrow — when they aren't at the bank?"