The end of the hour came, but no guard showed himself at the front door to say that everything was all right. One of the policemen pounded upon it, but got no response.
"That's funny!" he said. "They ought to answer—that's their orders!"
He pounded upon the door again, and still he got no reply from those inside.
"Think we'd better go in?" one of the others asked.
"We've got orders not to do it unless we know there's trouble inside."
"Well, there may be trouble."
"Card game—that's all. You listen to me—hand that guard a call down when he shows up. He's a sort of fresh guy, anyway—thinks he owns the museum, I guess!"
Once more he pounded on the door and got no response. The police began to look serious.
"Aw, how could anything happen?" one of them asked. "Nobody could get into the museum, could they? And there was nobody in there when it was locked up except them that belonged. Ain't we been on watch?"
"Well, that scrap called all of us across the street for a time, remember."