This building was a one-story brick affair with a vast amount of window space. From the sidewalk they could see faint lights glowing within, but could make out no further details. They therefore selected the darkest side of the building, and made their way hurriedly across the lawn. Here, they found, they could see the crowding apparatus within the one long room fairly well. They looked into one window after another, making a circuit around the building, until Phil suddenly clutched the girl's arm.
"Look!" he whispered. "Straight ahead and a little to the left!"
At the place he indicated stood a tall safe. Across the top of its door were painted in gold letters, the words: "The Epicure."
"That's the safe that went to-night," whispered Phil. "That's all we need to know. Now, quick to a telephone!"
"Oh," said a gentle, ironic voice behind them, "not so quick!"
They whirled around and found themselves looking into two automatic pistols, and behind them in the light of the street lamps, the sardonic smile of Tony Costello.
"Charmed at your kind interest in my playthings, I'm sure," he purred. "Only it leaves me in an embarrassing position. I'm not exactly sure what to do about it. Kindly step inside while I think."
Phil made a move sidewise along the wall.
"Stop!" barked Costello sharply. "Of course," his voice was quiet again, "that might be the simplest way out. I think I am within my legal rights if I shoot people who are trying to break into my property. Yet, that would be messy—not neat. Better step in. The window swings outward."