"Yes. It's never locked in this joint," said the other, in an equally low tone. "The halls are as public as the street."
The old Swiss clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
"To bick oud such a place," spoke he. "It is not goot sense."
Big Slim put his hand out and Bat heard a door creak on its hinges.
"Now, then," spoke the lank burglar, to his companion, "in you go. And if we meet any one, act as if we'd lived here for a dozen years."
The two disappeared; and as Bat heard the door close softly behind them, he drew in a long breath.
"Well, here goes," said he. "There will be very little cover now."
He knew if he once allowed the burglar or his colleague to get out of view or hearing, his chances of coming upon them again were greatly lessened. And yet too much promptness might land him stumbling upon them, spoiling everything. Guardedly, he turned the knob, and the door opened the merest trifle. Through the chink he had a clear view of a dirty hall, long, and lighted by a single incandescent lamp. Quietly he stepped inside, closing the door after him. At the far end of the hall was a staircase; and he went toward this with padded feet. The flight of stairs ran straight ahead; at the top was a turn and a blank, hand-smutted wall faced him. From somewhere in the hall above, unseen by him, a brilliant light was burning; and it fell upon the flat space at the top of the steps unwaveringly. Two grotesque shadows lay upon the wall, swollen and distorted and making uncouth gestures.
"Ah," said Bat, still at the bottom of the flight. "There they are, talking it over."
As he stood looking and listening he caught a rustling of skirts, light footsteps and the sound of a woman's voice from somewhere in the regions above. In a few moments this was followed by a frightened squeak, a chorus of startled and indignant voices, and then down the stairway upon him charged two rather pretty girls, somewhat over-dressed, both chewing gum and talking shrilly.