“Out again into the night!” Riley grunted. “What do you know about that? Well—let’s get after it!”
They got beneath the manhole covering and fought to get it free. It was heartbreaking work, for the covering had a weight of snow above it, and ice filled every crevice. But finally they felt it give, and after a time forced it a short distance to one side, the snow caving in upon them.
Muggs crawled up and dug at the snow! Inch by inch they forced the manhole covering back, and finally they emerged into the open air and closed the covering again. They traced the wire to a tree at the end of the alley, and from there to a telephone pole, and across the street in the usual manner.
They spoke but seldom now. They were almost exhausted; more than one feared they had been hoaxed. Again they flashed their torches and followed the wire, once more across the corner of an unimproved lot, across another street, and then——
“Wh-what?” Riley cried. “Do you see where we are? Back to Verbeck’s place—that’s what! On the other side of the house!”
He would have said more, but Verbeck’s grasp on his arm stopped him. Into Verbeck’s heart had come a sudden fear, and he didn’t see the advisability of the sergeant and the police squad knowing everything.
“What kind of a stunt is this?” the sergeant growled.
“Never mind!” Riley counseled sternly, aware of what the end might be. “We’ve been following this wire, haven’t we? Very well! We had a reason for wanting to know where it ran. And that’s all.”
The sergeant subsided, but he guessed that it was not all.
They were in the yard of the Verbeck place again now, the wire running from tree to tree as before. Finally it sprang to the side of the house, and down it to a window in a rear room. There Riley, who was leading, stopped.