There appeared to be no immediate reason to doubt that they would, for Ardley was triumphantly stating what had followed the detective’s entrance.
“You bet I’ve got him, Dave,” he bellowed, in conclusion. “There’s no way he can get out of the trap. I can drown him like a rat in a firkin. It’s dead lucky you telephoned to me and put me wise.”
“I did so as soon as he left the road house.”
“He showed up there, did he?”
“Yes. Morley and Conroy were having a drink in the barroom when he came in.”
“They knew him, eh?”
“Bet you!” said Margate expressively. “They came up and told me. I was just out of bed.”
“How did you know he was coming here?”
“I stole down on the stairs and heard him ask Dugan about the sign on your building,” Margate explained. “I knew by the way he spoke, then, that he would head for here. So I phoned over and put you on your guard.”
“It’s dead lucky you did,” Ardley repeated. “He would have got me, all right, if I hadn’t been wise. But I was ready for him. I had the chair right on the trapdoor. He planked himself down on it, when I told him to, like a kid on a circus seat. There was nothing to it after that. How did you fellows come over?”