"And so it is, to all intents and purposes. We know the room where the boys are sleeping. That garrulous old fool of a landlord told us, when we dropped into his drinking bar, that the chest was in Nat Trevor's room. All we have to do, then, is to climb that trellis work leading up to the porch roof, walk in through the open window, and make good our escape."
"What if they make any resistance?"
"I don't think they will," said Dayton, grimly fingering his revolver as he spoke; "but if they do, we can easily subdue them."
"But they may raise the whole town about our ears," objected Colonel Morello, who seemed to be weakening now that the actual moment for carrying out their rascally plan had arrived. Dayton, on the contrary, was confident as if they already had the sapphires on board the "Nettie Nelsen."
"Let them raise the town if they want to," scoffed Morello's lieutenant. "The boys are waiting at the landing, and at the first sign of trouble they'll start a fusillade that will scare the life out of any one who tries to interfere. Now, then, you remain on watch here. I'm going to see how the coast lies."
Morello nodded. The next moment he was alone, while Dayton, swiftly but silently, glided across the dark street. He gained the foot of the trellis work, glanced upward for a minute, and then setting his foot in the criss-cross work began to climb. He made no more noise than a marauding cat.
His companion, watching nervously from the dark shadows, saw Dayton's form gain the porch roof, slip noiselessly across it to the boys' window, and cautiously push aside the shade.
The next instant he stepped through the casement and disappeared from Morello's view.