"All right, boss," the man whispered.
"All right!" Sheriff Kowen answered.
Kowen went on up the street. He stopped in a dark spot beneath an overhanging tree, and looked at a house in the middle of the block. He knew the property; it belonged to an old estate, and was handled by a well-known real estate firm. For years it had been without a tenant. The investigation made by the deputies during the afternoon had resulted in the information that it had been repaired and leased some three months before to strangers in the city, but people who had exhibited good references.
It was some distance away from the other residences, and the lot was bordered by a high hedge, except in front. It was an ideal location for a fashionable gambling resort.
As Kowen watched, he saw a young man saunter down the street, hesitate a moment, then enter the gate and hurry toward the house.
"Another victim!" Kowen told himself.
Now one of his deputies approached him, keeping in the shadows as much as possible.
"Well?" Kowen snapped.
"Almost forty men in there, boss," the deputy reported.
"All our crowd ready?"