“I won’t have it.”
“Well?”
“I’m going down there.”
Gilmore pointed to the cellar as he spoke.
“You’ll get your head shot off if you do.”
“I don’t care. I won’t have this scheme ruined now,” said Gilmore, with an oath.
Geary pondered a moment.
“You might go down the front way,” he suggested, “and get a shot at the fellow through the door.”
“Just the thing.”
When Gilmore reached the street door, he saw a man waiting there, and looking through the glass panel as he waited.