Fifeson pulled his chair further in the shadow of the wall. “I say, turn out some of the lights, won’t you?”
Master jumped up, and turned out every one, while the man went on whispering to Mr. Bonstone.
“It’s going to be broken into at two o’clock to-night. I believe you set Jones up after he failed.”
Mr. Bonstone nodded again.
“I knew you had big money in it,” Fifeson gasped. “Get to town quick. Get a friend to make the police wise. Don’t go to headquarters yourself. You did me a good turn. I thought I’d stand by you.”
“Thanks,” said Mr. Bonstone briefly. “Shall I go back in your car?”
“Oh! Lord, no,” said the poor wretch in an agony. “I may get shot for this, anyway.”
He was breaking away, when Mr. Bonstone caught him. “How did you find out?”
“Was in the garage under a car—two gangsters came in to hire an auto—I caught a clue and followed it up.”