“It was good enough to fool anyone. But the question is, will it bring the Hoods here?”
In the room far below, Mr. Parker had lowered the blinds of the circular windows. Making certain that Charley Phelps was securely bound and gagged so that he could make no sound, he opened the front door a tiny crack and left it that way.
“How about the lights?” Salt Sommers asked.
“Leave them on. Shove that sound apparatus under the daybed. Now I guess everything’s set. Upstairs, everyone.”
Mr. Parker, Salt, and the two reporters, joined Penny and Jerry on the iron stairway.
“We may have a long vigil,” the editor warned. “In fact, this whole scheme is likely to turn out a bust.”
Few words were spoken during the next twenty minutes. Penny stirred restlessly, and finally went to join Jerry who was maintaining a watch from the belfry.
“See anyone?” she whispered, scanning the street below.
“No sign of anyone yet.”
At intervals automobiles whizzed past the tower, and presently one drew up not far from the building. Immediately, Jerry and Penny focused their attention upon it. The headlights were turned to parking, then a man alighted and came toward the Hubell Tower.