Staccato shots raked the dark room as the two men lay on the floor. Then came a tremendous crash, and the door shook as its hinges yielded. Nipper fired twice. Again he found no mark.
“Out through the corridor,” suggested Cliff.
“No chance,” replied Nipper grimly. “They’ve got a guy out there, sure. Hang on — somebody’s sure to come in from the club! But they’re makin’ an awful big noise out there on the dance floor!”
He raised himself and emptied his automatic at a form that appeared at the opening in the door. Cliff, reaching forward, found his gun and fired three shots.
There was a jeer from the other room as the form disappeared. They had fired at a coat held up as a ruse.
“I’m outta lead,” complained Nipper. “What a sucker I am!”
“Get that fellow’s gun,” said Cliff.
Nipper reached along the floor. He could not find the fallen gangster’s automatic! Cliff held his own gun in readiness.
A sudden crash came from the door. The bottom swung upward and inward, as though struck by a battering ram. The top hinge gave, and the door fell flat.
Cliff fired at a form in the lighted room. He saw the man stagger away.