Larry began fumbling in his pocket. At the same time, with wildly-beating heart, he was wondering whether he should give the signal for help. He did not quite know how to proceed.
“Come, the note!” said Perkins, impatiently.
Just at that instant a roughly-dressed man, with a plumber’s kit of tools on his shoulder, was entering the hallway downstairs. As he crossed the threshold, another man, with a long scar on his face, lurched forward, and remarked:
“No one allowed in here.”
“I’m the plumber, sent to fix a leaky pipe,” announced the one with the tools, as he brushed past the man who sought to bar his progress.
Moving quickly but silently, the man with the plumber’s tools came to a halt in front of the door with the rising sun on it.
“This is the place. Now to wait until I hear a shot,” he said, softly. “I hope the detectives are all in their places.”
Larry continued to fumble for the note. He wanted to gain time, and likewise he wanted to see the deed produced, since he knew it must be hidden somewhere in the room.
“I’ll sign it now, and my mother can later,” spoke Larry.
“That was not the agreement!” said Perkins, sharply. “Are you trying to trick us?”