“Thunder!” Lucy Devoll exclaimed. “What did you do?”
“Bolted,” said Floyd grimly. “I made a quick get-away, you can bet on that. The gink went in there, and that’s all I waited to see. Gammon had an appointment with him at eight. He ought to show up pretty soon. Then we’ll know how the cat is going to jump.”
“Do you think the dicks have got any line on me?” questioned Hogan apprehensively.
“How can they have any line on you?” Floyd returned, with a growl. “You was in disguise and you had a rented limousine with a phony number. There’s no way that they can have picked up a line on you.”
“Begad, I hope not.”
“You stand well as a taxi driver,” Floyd added. “You’re as safe from suspicion as a preacher. That’s why I had the infernal live stock brought here.”
“You’re right, mebbe.”
“I know I’m right,” Floyd asserted confidently.
“I can see where you’ll get the surprise of your life a little later,” said Patsy Garvan to himself.
“But when do we get the coin? That’s what I want to know,” vouchsafed the Devoll girl, most expressively. “I’ve gone into this blindly, as Nan has, on your word, Floyd, and——”