“Yeah?” came the reply from one of the government men. “Stick to your story, fellow. See how much good it will do you.”
The policeman stepped into the light. His face was dull, but hardened. He looked at the agents and their captive. The inspection satisfied him.
“Taking him along, are you?” he asked.
“That’s what we’re doing,” replied one of the men.
“Nobody else here?”
“Only the fellow who got away.”
“What did he look like?”
“A thug,” volunteered the square-jawed secret-service man who had led the raiders. “Tough egg. Medium height, thick lips, twisted nose, dark complexion. Wore old trousers and a dirty gray sweater. Better turn in a report on him, officer. I’d recognize him.
“Couldn’t see him in the dark,” put in one of the men who had been upstairs. “He was wearing a black coat.”
“He picked that up down here,” explained the first agent.