“Thought better of it, did you?” he remarked jeeringly. “I knew mighty well you would.”
“It’s vile of you to make me do a thing like this,” protested Nina.
“You weren’t so particular at Roxbury,” he taunted.
“Why do you harp on that?” she cried furiously. “You know I didn’t steal that purse. I believe you did it yourself.”
“Suppose I did?” he grinned mockingly, in a way that was itself a half admission. “I deserve credit for being smart enough to make somebody else the goat. But let’s get down to business. I want you to tell me all about the way the rooms are laid out and where the cash and jewelry are kept.”
She gave him an idea of the plan of the bungalow, and promised to leave a door open from the back leading into the kitchen. He was to come a little after midnight.
That afternoon and evening, life took its ordinary course at Kill Kare, as far as external signs were concerned. They knew that Higby was probably watching the house from the shelter of the adjoining woods, ready to take flight at anything which might indicate the betrayal of his plans.
Not that he anticipated betrayal. He was confident that the deadly fear that Nina had of jail would keep her his accomplice, even though an unwilling one. But one could never be too careful when engaged upon such a venture as his.
He noted the girls sitting on the porch with their sewing, or picking flowers in the garden, saw the boys go motoring and return, heard the party singing songs after supper on the steps of the veranda. There was nothing to excite suspicion in the slightest degree and he exulted as he thought of the rich haul he expected to make.
His jubilation would have been less keen, however, had he noted the care with which Joel loaded his favorite revolver and had he seen three men who slipped into Kill Kare under cover of the darkness.