“You looked for too much,” was Waltham’s comment. “What did we have to work on? We caught a crook passing counterfeit bills. He told us where he got them — from Birch — and that he was going back to get more that night. So we raided. If Marquette had been with us, we might have got the goods as well as the plates. That’s all.”
The conversation ended. The visiting agent left his chief, and took the elevator to the lobby. A few minutes later a bell boy walked down the stairs. He was the one who had listened through the door of the room adjoining 418.
He entered the door of a private dining room. He did not come out. When the head waiter entered the room a few minutes later, to prepare for a private party of diners, there was no one in the place.
CHAPTER XX
AFTER DARK
Tiger Bronson’s house was deserted. The overlord of gangdom had gone away that afternoon. It was early in the evening. Bronson frequently did not return to his home until midnight.
The former politician was not afraid of burglars. No gangster would have dared to enter his place. Furthermore, there was little of value there, except in Tiger Bronson’s modern safe.
Yet to-night, some one was entering the building. A figure was climbing the black wall to the second story. The wall was composed of rough bricks, and the unseen visitor used them as easily as if they had been a ladder.
The window of Bronson’s side room was opened by an invisible hand. A shape entered. Then a tiny light appeared amid the darkness. It flickered here and there, going and coming, as though the intruder who held it was engaged in a tour of inspection.
The visitor was searching for something; and it must be in this room. For he kept to the one center of activity. The light stopped at the safe.