“He probably counts on Griswold doing nothing,” he decided, then grimly called himself to account. “What difference does it make to me where he has been hiding?” he asked himself impatiently. “The important thing is that he seems to be here, that the gold also seems to be here, and that he’s going to be kind enough to show me where it is.”
The unseen car approached very quietly, and came to a halt outside the gate. They heard the faint scrape of the man’s heel as Simpson dismounted, then footsteps approached the gate, the latch was cautiously lifted, and the gate swung inward.
Obviously Simpson intended to drive into the yard, and that could mean only one thing—that he intended to remove a substantial part of the gold, if not all of it, and wished to bring the machine as close to his hiding place as possible, so that he need only carry the stuff a minimum distance.
The fugitive was within a few feet of the two men when he pushed the gate back against the fence, but they made no attempt to tackle him. They felt pretty sure that the loot was hidden in the garage, but until there was no longer the slightest room for doubt, they meant to give Simpson all the rope he needed.
Presently the faint, buzzing sound of the motor began again, and then the vehicle loomed over the top of the fence. Simpson was backing it very slowly and cautiously into the graveled driveway in front of the garage.
Now the car—an electric coupé somewhat larger than usual—was in the yard, and part of it was hidden to view beyond the garage. It was backed a few feet farther, and then the subdued humming of the motor abruptly ceased.
Again the two watchers heard the driver step out. Now there was a new sound, that of a key being inserted in a lock. The lock clicked audibly in the stillness, after which the door of the garage began to slide aside.
Not one of the sounds that had been made thus far could have been heard at a little distance, but not one of them had escaped the keen ears of Cray and Green-eye Gordon.