Saidee Isaacs came in at seven o’clock. She looked at the scaffolding, removed her gloves, lifted her broad-brimmed hat from her sherry-colored hair and exclaimed:
“You’re the limit! I thought I’d got in the wrong studio.”
“I’ve been working all night, Saidee.”
“What is that thing?”
“An up-to-date method of cutting steel—particularly vanadium, chrome or high-carbon stuff. It’s new in the history of safe-breaking. There’s nothing like being original—even in your sinning.”
“But will it work?”
“I’ll tell you at noon. Lock the front door, pull down the blinds, and if the boy comes send him away. We’re going to cop ‘The Black Cougar’s’ bank-roll by Sunday. All we’ll leave him is the rubber-band.”
“I’m curious about that spool of iron wire, Chester.”
“Same here.”
“I don’t see why he should lock up a ridiculous thing like that.”