“I’ve got an idea,” Case said, watching the collection of roughly-dressed boys sitting about a table in the other room, “that that kid has been waiting in Quebec for us.”
“What shall we do, then,” Alex asked still in a whisper. “Shall we make a break and get out right now?”
“We may as well wait and see what takes place,” Case answered. “This is a pretty tough joint, I guess, and some one may start something. In that case, we can get out while they are beating each other up.”
The lunches ordered were now brought by the waiter, and the boys fell to, although, as may well be imagined, without much appetite. Max sat with his face turned toward the curtain, evidently trying to discover whether his enemies were using the alcove. He had seen the boys enter the restaurant, but was not quite certain as to which room they had seated themselves in. His face was watchful and vicious.
Half an hour passed and the situation did not change, then Alex plucked Case by the sleeve, motioning toward the outer door.
“We may as well move,” he said. “It is getting late, and the streets are now growing more unsafe every minute because of such night prowlers as you see out there. It we’ve got to fight, we may as well begin.”
But it was not necessary for them to start the engagement, as Max came to the alcove directly and drew the curtain roughly aside. The boys remained in their seats, grinning up at him, but their hands under the cover of the table grasped their automatics.
“Hello!” Alex said presently. “We never expected to meet you here.”
“Oh, I had an idea you’d be along,” Max said with an ugly frown.
“Come on in and set down,” Case urged with a chuckle. “I’d like to have you tell me why you disappeared so suddenly.”