“Oh, I’ve got that all fixed,” Floyd interrupted. “That’s what Gammon is after to-night.”
“Well, I hope he gets it.”
“He knows I won’t turn down the man until I’m dead sure of the coin. I’m not taking that kind of a chance. The rest of the job cut no great ice and was easily done, but putting out a man’s light—that’s a different matter.”
“I should say so,” frowned Lucy.
“If the coin is ready for us——”
“Easy!”
“That must be Gammon.”
Patsy heard the ringing of the doorbell—three times.
The corpulent woman, Hogan’s wife, hastened out to open the front door.
Patsy clung to his board, watching constantly, listening intently, but he began to feel the strain of his awkward and perilous position. He scarce dared to stir, lest the board should slip from one end, or the other, and his distress was each moment becoming more painful.