“She's coming over,” Griggs cried incredulously.
“No, I'll stop her,” Garson declared firmly.
“Right! Stop her,” Chicago Red vouchsafed.
But, when, after tapping a few words, the forger paused for the reply, no sound came.
“She don't answer,” he exclaimed, greatly disconcerted. He tried again, still without result. At that, he hung up the receiver with a groan. “She's gone——”
“On her way already,” Griggs suggested, and there was none to doubt that it was so.
“What's she coming here for?” Garson exclaimed harshly. “This ain't no place for her! Why, if anything should go wrong now——”
But Griggs interrupted him with his usual breezy cheerfulness of manner.
“Oh, nothing can go wrong now, old top. I'll let her in.” He drew a small torch from the skirt-pocket of his coat and crossed to the hall door, as Garson nodded assent.
“God! Why did she have to come?” Garson muttered, filled with forebodings. “If anything should go wrong now!”