“What was it?” whispered Loseis sharply.
“Man crawling towards the door of the men’s house.”
“Did you get him?”
“No,” said Conacher ruefully. “He streaked back around the corner. It was the merest shadow. I shot too soon.”
There was another long wait, much harder to bear for nerves that still recollected the explosion of that shot. Then they became aware by a gentle grayness pervading the scene outside, that the moon had risen. The orb itself was hidden by the buildings opposite.
“He’s gone into the little warehouse beyond the store,” said Conacher suddenly. “The door has been opened. . . . Damn it! I should have locked that door.”
“You couldn’t have locked it,” said Loseis. “They broke the staples.”
“I’ve a good mind to go over there and get him,” muttered Conacher.
“Right across the open, I suppose,” said Loseis bitterly.
“I might steal around behind the buildings.”