These occasions were few, but Shadow did not fail to take advantage of them, and by moving various articles a little to this side or that, he constructed a little avenue or passage under the miscellaneous truck and plunder.
On his hands and knees he used this passage, and he was in it when he heard the writer of these lines speaking to the guard, and saying that he was sent by Dick Stanton.
Hastily tearing a leaf from a blank-book, he had written the note, as well as he was able in the darkness, and had thrust up the hand containing it through one of the interstices in the big pile.
Anxiously he laid there, awaiting the result of that almost foolish venturing of my head into the lion's jaws.
A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he heard the thud caused by Growler's fall, followed by the deep-chested oaths of Cap, who, in his rage, turned his revolver on the guard, and was within an ace of pulling the trigger.
Cap took it for granted that the spy was a detective, and supposed that the game was up; that the place would surely be in the hands of the police in an hour or two.
"Lock that door, and keep it locked!" he savagely ordered Growler, and then started on a run for the other side of the building, hoping to catch Stanton.
Meantime, however, the latter had taken his departure, to be nabbed a few minutes later.
Hastily Cap got his portable valuables together, and prepared for flight at a moment's notice from the scouts sent out in all directions.
No alarm came in.