“Yes, sir, you didn’t have it on when you came in just now, you know.”
“Careless!” sighed Mr. Addicks. “No wonder they spotted me. Well, what must be must be, boys!” He sank into a chair with a gesture of surrender. “I guess it’s all up, hombres.”
“Couldn’t you—couldn’t you make your getaway?” asked Fudge, lowering his voice and glancing apprehensively toward the door. Mr. Addicks laid finger to lips, tiptoed across and suddenly threw the door open. Thrilled, Fudge and Perry leaned forward to look. The corridor, however, was empty.
Leaving the door slightly ajar, Mr. Addicks returned to his seat.
“You mean,” he asked, “that I might get away before they came back for me?”
Fudge nodded.
“I wonder! You’re certain you haven’t told anyone, Shaw? Or you, Hull?”
“No, sir, we haven’t,” replied Fudge emphatically, even indignantly. “We haven’t said a word to anyone. We—we thought at first you were a safe-breaker,” he added apologetically.
“What made you think that?”